Diverging from The Path of the Aura
by GameManiac
Summary: A short story compilation focusing on untold events from "The Path of the Aura" fanfic series. Learn more about specified characters throughout "The Path of the Aura" through a different perspective and have unmentioned moments in time made clear. Rated "T" for blood, language, sexual content, and violence. "Diverging Chapter 14" posted. Lonesome Wanderer Lucario.
1. Diverging Chapter 1

Just a heads up.

I will almost never be leaving Author's Notes for my side stories. If I do, it's to point something out that matters to the story itself.

I also won't be keeping track of the views that my side stories receives directly within these same side stories. I already do so on my main stories, and I'll do so there.

That's about it.

 **[Insert disclaimer about respective copyrighted and referenced properties not being my own and OCs and fictitious storyline being my own here.]**

* * *

Diverging Chapter 1: Eduardo's Life in Banishment

Location: ?

Date: 59 A.D.

Time: ?

 _Wandering (Hyouhaku)/Naruto Shippuden Original Soundtrack II/Toshiro Masuda_

 _(Song Begins)_

The life of a banished soul is a lonely one. The life of a soul as powerful as mine is also a lonely one.

My Elemental Aura abilities, because they deviate from the norm, has led to me being shunned from most areas of human civilization that I've come across, at one point or another, with only as many as I have fingers on my hand actually welcoming me for who I am.

But even then, my time in any other community isn't enduring, nowhere near as much as my childhood back in my home village, before I even knew of my Elemental Aura abilities.

My time is spent wandering aimlessly from one corner of the world to the next, rolling along like a stone that gathers no moss, and instead erodes itself over the years. My body and abilities didn't succumb to this over the years and instead have only grown stronger and more prominent, like an island that continues to grow from the hardening lava of an active volcano. But my emotional state has worsened over the years.

For the most part, the lack of social activity has left me bitter, quiescent, appreciating very little in life and growing pessimistic of anyone that I encounter, even if they show me hospitality, even if they know of my heroic actions, even if they know I'm generally a good person, even if they know that I've become an enemy of Rome. After all, Roman soldiers have sought me out from time to time, ever since they caught whiff of the blood of 999 slain soldiers.

Is it possible that they've returned to my home village? Did they "interrogate" those that knew me into giving them information about me? Did they ever locate the entrance to the underground laboratory that I left behind? Is it also possible that they've ransacked the place and done away with my brothers and burned the remote place to the ground?

All of those questions seldom enter my mind during my travels, because the solitary thought that I'm banished from _ever_ returning to that village keeps thoughts of home away. As a result, I've long since abandoned my past, even coming close to forgetting all about it from time to time.

Thoughts of an abandoned past, possession of mysterious abilities that isolate me from humanity, an ongoing pursuit by an established Roman Empire, and my progressively worsening mental constitution have all incrementally made me less and less concerned over my wellbeing, to the point where I find myself traveling farther distances without stopping in between, especially if the place to stop at is a city.

This has resulted me in collapsing out of sheer exhaustion on more than one occasion. And in one of those occasions, when I woke up, I found myself moving, albeit being carried somewhere that I didn't originally intend to go to.

The people responsible for taking me with them were a small group of wandering nomads, having apparently found me collapsed in the middle of nowhere, and no doubt thinking that they were fortunate to have located me, to have picked me up in my time of need, before I had apparently died of starvation or something and was at the mercy of the scavengers.

I slipped back into unconsciousness soon afterward, and found myself cycling between consciousness and unconsciousness at least a few times, likely out of severe exhaustion, dehydration, starvation, etc. I found myself carried from the wasteland I was walking about, onto a cargo wagon drawn by a camel and its owner, into another remote village, and finally onto a bed.

 _(Song Ends)_

* * *

"Don't get up yet! You're still too weak to stand!"

With my mind still in a starved daze, I failed to realize my face impacting the floor when I collapsed from fatigue after toppling over my second step. Then I felt my body grow light and supported back onto the bed I woke up from seconds earlier, positioned into a sitting posture by a grizzly older man and his child.

Perhaps they were a grandfather and a grandson? I don't know. My vision is still in a haze, and the headache I now have in conjunction to my weakened state didn't help me process information as well as I normally could.

"Where…where am I…?" I slurred my speech.

"You're in Solitudo, boy." The older man spoke to me again, his tone of voice clearly widening the gap between our ages and, to his knowledge anyway, our levels of wisdom. "A fitting name for a desolate village in the middle of nowhere?"

"Solitude… _Solitudo_ …?" I repeated, finding his words to sound distorted through my ears but still recognizable nevertheless.

"Yes, Solitudo. It's Latin, boy." He continued to apparently undermine my knowledge and my youth. "Did your parents ever teach you Latin before you taught yourself how to wander about a wasteland without a camel or even a sense of direction?"

"…" His words certainly stung, but not as much as my entire body right now.

"…Nah, you probably know more than you're letting on," He believed. "You could've ended up where those wandering nomads found you for one reason or another. Were you running from something, from someone?"

While the overwhelming fatigue of my body would cripple most people and have them wish to rest first and ask questions later, I wasn't most people and could endure it for as long as I could sensibly need to. That being said, I didn't know this man well enough to respond properly to his question and simply gave him this as an answer.

"I just…felt like…walking."

Clearly, the old man was wise to my ways and believed I was hiding more than what I was letting on. But he also displayed respect for me, for my current state of being, and decided to hold off on his inquiries until I was in a better state of mind to answer them.

 _If_ I decided to answer them.

His posture and words may have withdrawn, but his grandson was just as curious.

"You're dressed funny. Where are you from?"

"Spero!" The grandfather began to scold. "That's not how we welcome strangers!"

It's at this point that my still hazy gaze lazily glances over at the child that I now realize is standing a bit too close to my personal space. And were it not for the child's grandfather's sudden reprimand, I wouldn't know the child's name.

Though at this point, _hope_ is the last thing I need.

"…" For a moment, I stare at this child, his positive countenance clearing through my foggy perspective. But then I decide to close my eyes and fall back in my bed, absolutely exhausted and in no mood to answer any questions to people I don't entirely trust.

* * *

Location: Solitudo

Date: 59 A.D.

Time: Early Afternoon

The next day, when enough of my strength comes back to me, is the day I was put to work, as both compensation for their actions in nursing me back to health yesterday, as well as for the overall good of their community, as they themselves worked on mending broken ends of their village here and there.

They quickly decided to put me to work on mending the roofs of some of their older houses. They handed me a ladder, a hammer, a small collection of crude nails, and enough wood to work with. The only thing that they _didn't_ give me was a means to cover my head from the ever intensifying sunlight. Luckily, I circled around this problem by making due with tying a piece of loose cloth over my head, discreetly taken out of my S1-GS device.

"You know, you never answered my question yesterday."

Before becoming a carpenter for Solitudo and picking up a hammer and nail, I'm met with Spero once more, as he perched himself like a sparrow on the most stable corner of the roof.

"…What question?" I responded flatly, feigning forgetfulness and keeping an eye on my hands and actions instead of him.

"You know, the one about your funny clothing and where you came from." He reminded me, his childhood naïveté making him blind to my obvious indifference.

"…Why does that concern you?" I respond blankly, before taking a nail and driving it through the wood with a few precise strikes of my hammer.

"Because when I grow up, I want to travel the world."

I actually flinched upon hearing that, and almost struck my thumb with the hammer as a result of that. Now this boy has some of my attention, but for all of the wrong reasons.

"…Kid, you're probably too young to understand this…but…" I began to explain to him with a shard of concern beginning to take shape within me for someone else that _isn't_ me.

"But…what?" He responded brightly. "Adventuring isn't all that is cracked up to be? There are dangers to be found all around, from the environment, the wildlife, and even the food?"

"…Yes." I found myself muttering, taken a bit further aback by the fact that he appears to have already heard those common responses before.

"Well, it sure beats staying here and keeping myself to one way of life."

"…That's true, I suppose…" I mumble, discreetly agreeing with him, but still opting to remain a closed book before him as I'm grabbing and positioning a new slab of wood for the roof and hammering it in place.

"So, are you going to tell me where you're from? What you wear? Why you're here?" Spero persisted enthusiastically.

"No." I responded almost automatically, before coming down the ladder and walking away.

"Why not?!" Spero raised his voice as he saw his biggest source of answers walk away.

"Well, for starters, I'm already done with the roof." I pointed out without looking back or stopping. "Made some improvements to it too."

Spero glanced at the roof, not only realizing that I finished it in record time, but seeing that I cut some corners by doing only some work on it, upon first glance anyway. He proceeds to walk on top of it, jump on it, trying to do his best to make it collapse below him without even an ounce of fear or concern for his wellbeing. But it doesn't, despite the fact that it is exposed and appears like a skeleton of a roof instead of the flesh and blood of one.

In short, what I did to the roof made it look like something foreign to him, and yet has more strength and rigidity than the ones this village has been hanging over their heads.

He ultimately sat down on the roof and watched me wander off towards a different corner of Solitudo, to see if they needed me to do any other jobs since I finished mine so quickly.

"I want to know." Spero talked determinedly to himself. "I want to know more about you."

* * *

Time: Night

In Solitudo, it has become routine for these people to sleep shortly after sundown and wake up shortly after sunrise. But because of my life before entering this village, as well as my somewhat irregular sleep schedule in comparison to their own, I didn't feel the need to go to sleep yet. In fact, I didn't even feel tired.

Instead, I felt like sparring in the middle of an open field, believing that my swordsmanship has rusted lately after months of peaceful respite.

Once I found an appropriate training area, an area full of tall grass that these people have been meaning to level down, I scanned my surroundings to make sure no one was watching me, withdrew two swords, both of which had _two_ blades parallel to each other, and began to practice my swordplay by cutting down the tall grass.

In the middle of my high-speed hacking and slashing, I heard the sound of rustling grass nearby me and reacted quickly to the situation. I crouched down into the grass, making myself nearly prone as I almost slithered over the dirt like a snake, holding both of my swords along the lengths of my arms. And when I homed in on the source of the sound, I pounced by springing up and holding both blades against the neck of the intruder.

And then I pulled both blades away when I realized who it was that I had just threatened.

"Spero? What are you still doing up?" I asked with an abnormally casual tone of voice.

"…" Spero was statuesque, perhaps traumatized from what I could tell just by looking at his backside. But then he turned around to face me, and had a look of amazement etched across his countenance, rather than one of apprehension or spite. "…How did you _do_ that?"

"Do what? Sneak up on you within an area that makes crinkling noises with your every step?" I questioned back, quickly dismissing the emotions I half-expected from him. "Or is it my swordsmanship, because I'm assuming you were spying on me this whole time."

"…" His brief pause and meek look answered my assumption for me, and then his youthful gaiety returned seconds after. "Both!"

For some reason, having a child take a liking to me made me feel more willing to talk to him and answer his questions. The way he stared at me, having to crane his head up slightly to look me eye to eye, it was almost like he associated me as his father. And I don't necessarily blame him for that, since all I've seen that he has as family is his grandfather. Whoever his mother and father are, by my best estimations without asking him because it isn't my place to do so, is that they are elsewhere or dead.

Refocusing myself to Spero, I responded before displaying to him both of my foreign blades. "For the most part, I taught myself. I honed my instincts and made it my own martial art."

"Was it difficult?"

"Honestly, no." I responded truthfully. "The more I honed my craft, the more natural it felt to me, as if I had learned how to wield a sword in a past life, or had an apparent talent for the art."

"I've never seen swords like these before," He marveled the craftsmanship of my held weapons. "Did you make them yourself?"

"Yes, I did."

"How did you get the blades to separate?" Spero wondered, believing that I had broken one whole blade into two halves, and then making a sword out of those two halves by placing them parallel and within a few inches of each other.

"It's easy when you have the appropriate mold when forging them out of superheated metal."

"…May I hold them, please?"

Earlier in the day, I would've flatly told him otherwise, simply because I didn't know him, he didn't know me, and I wasn't the type of person to have an active conversation with, simply because of my constant roaming and common loneliness. But now that I've warmed up to him, and trusted him a bit more (and could _easily_ disarm him if he attempted anything hostile), I decided to comply with his wishes and handed both of my dual-bladed broadswords to him. He took them with glee, stepped back about ten feet from me, and ducked down into the tall grass, attempting to emulate the technique I implemented for walking stealthily across this environment.

"It's all about how you maneuver your weight and how closely centered your being is." I explained to him, deliberately leaving out foreign terms like "center of gravity". "You have to remain low to the ground, slithering like a snake between the grass. Don't try to step over the tall grass because your path will be easier to see."

He appeared to take my advice to heart and radically improved his technique into something adequately similar to my own. And then I noticed how he began to inch his way closer and closer to me, until he was within striking distance with the pair of swords I let him "play" with. He jumped out of the tall grass and aimed for my chest with both swords, only to feel both swords slip out of his hands because of the dexterity of _my_ hands, and then feel himself invert with minimal effort in my part when I gave him a judo throw.

I could hear him coughing a bit after falling squarely on his back and standing back up as I sheathed both swords back on their sheathes behind my back. We both looked at each other once again eye to eye. No aggression, no deceit, just calmness in my part and realization in his part.

"I _knew_ you would do that." He said with a pleased smirk. "You wouldn't drop your guard, even to a child like me."

"No I wouldn't." I responded back, feeling no guilt or penitence for flipping a child like an omelet on a frying pan. "When you've been traveling the world for as long as I have, you have to keep your guard up at all times to all kinds of situations."

"And yet you look like you could be my older brother," Spero noted my youth. "Are you a prodigious mercenary or something?"

"Actually, no." I admitted. "But my parents are, and they did teach me some of what they knew before they…prematurely passed away. After that, most of the skills that I know were picked up over time, some more potent than others."

"Sorry about your parents…" He felt pity for me. "If it's any solace for you, my parents also died prematurely."

..I knew it.

"How did they die?" I wondered, saying my question a bit too quickly, without much thought on the repercussions of what might be a dark and distant subject for Spero to speak up about.

Oddly enough, he had no problems doing so.

"They died…from a Roman raid, about a month ago."

* * *

 _Solitude/Dreams & Imaginations (Disc 1 - Progressive & Evocative)/Two Steps From Hell_

 _(Song Begins)_

"…!" I felt myself reel back slightly, as if punched squarely in the face, by what Spero just said.

"It's traumatizing, I know. I made that same reaction before dropping to the ground and bawling my eyes out." Spero added somberly. "Anyway, that Roman raid, even though it only consisted of twenty soldiers, was too much for Solitudo to bear. We made the mistake of taking them in when they asked us too, and they took advantage of us before burning most of the village and killing some of the residents, my parents included, to the ground. They left soon after, to do some military business elsewhere or something. We've been rebuilding Solitudo since then. You actually came in and helped us as we were about to finish repairs. But those Romans gave us a warning that they'll be back the day after the moon disappears from the night sky."

After taking his words as fact, I looked up at the night sky and quickly noticed the telltale absence of the moon. "So they'll be here tomorrow?"

"Yeah…" He answered back with an almost forced calmness in his voice.

"Aren't you worried?" I told him, puzzled by his apparent lack of fear.

"…I'm terrified," He said, his face defying his stated emotions. "But I also know that most of my neighbors have been training against a likely second attack. Because, here in Solitudo, we don't _ever_ make the same mistake twice."

For a child, Spero already behaves like a modern adult, likely because his live is rough and everyone in Solitudo has a job or two or three to do.

"And I also know that you'll be here, fighting alongside us." He said with hopeful eyes staring up into my uncovered right eye.

Sadly, I didn't have the same optimistic look as Spero, simply because I have the whole picture in my being, and he's only seen a few pieces of it. "…You don't want me fighting for you guys."

This made him nervous. "Why not?"

"…It's complicated." Just two words, two words that were an enigma to him were second nature to me. They made me recall the day that my Elemental Aura first became apparent to me, how I used them to take out an entire Roman legion, become banished from my nameless home village, even slay a black-scaled dragon on one occasion.

However, all they did for him was puzzle him and make him regard me as a mystery that needed solving.

"What's complicated about you?" Spero argued. "You're fit and likely wise from your travels. You've got weapons that you've made yourself, so you should have some skill with them. Not only that, but you clearly know how to fight with two blades, while most of my neighbors have struggled with just one."

"…" There's something about Spero that made me realize that children and guilt coexist in perfect harmony. "…You think of me as Solitudo's secret weapon or something?"

"I think of you as a man that can mean the difference between Solitudo remaining after tomorrow or not."

Inwardly, I was conflicted. Outwardly, I was immobile. Almost a decade of aimless wandering will wipe a man or woman clean of their countenance. But within my mind, I knew I couldn't just abandon these people in their time of need. They've done a lot for me, and I've also done a lot for them. The only issue I have is what will Solitudo's reaction be if I decided to ignite the Romans, punch holes through their hearts with my fists, make their hair stand on end with electricity, heal a lucky strike they inflict upon me, drown them, or telekinetically erase their minds. It's not the first time I've defended a village before with Elemental Aura before, but the first village I defended soon forced me to flee for the sake of my life, and most other's have mimicked the same actions, with a few being a bit more thankful before ultimately fearing me and my powers.

Solitudo will be no different. And I will be no different in _not_ keeping my abilities under wraps, especially if my survival or the wellbeing of an individual is concerned. And when that happens, _I_ will be the person to decide my fate, _not_ these recluses.

"…Alright, I'm in." I ultimately decided, after mulling it over.

"What's your price?" Spero began to assume I would offer my services for a little incentive.

"…No price. There's nothing you or Solitudo have that I want." I told him, having all that I need and _don't_ need in abundance within my S1-GS device. "And I told you already, I'm not a mercenary."

"Then what are you?" Spero wondered.

"I'm just a man, searching for answers to questions that no one has ever contemplated before."

With that, we both return back to Solitudo and proceeded to go to sleep. Thoughts of tomorrow lingered for Spero before he dreamt, and thoughts of my future in seeking answers to my questions kept me awake for longer than I would've liked.

 _(Song Ends)_

* * *

Time: Afternoon

For every single resident in Solitudo, waking up was a bitter ordeal when you believe that today might be the last day of your lives. The Roman threat that the citizens of this village were given almost a month ago would come true today. As a result, hardly a word was exchanged between everyone, as far as I could tell. Everyone had bleak expressions, even if they were confident in their skills or not.

This was perfectly understandable behavior for ordinary folks. But at the same time, the residents here vastly outnumber the twenty soldiers that were here almost a month ago, and would likely retain such numbers. But while Solitudo might have the edge in numbers, the Romans would have the edge in experience, especially since the Roman Empire is one of the first civilizations to create, mobilize, and organize a _professional_ army, not just a ragtag bunch of assorted sword-arms.

Which is why, even though Solitudo was braced for an expected Roman encounter today by keeping watch for any incoming forces, it still unnerved the entire village when a small force of twenty Roman soldiers began to make their march here.

At first, most of Solitudo was in a scrambling panic, the fear of death palpable with their shrieking voices. However, a few voices of reason managed to assuage them.

"We have numbers on our side!" Spero shouted.

"Do not be afraid!" His grandfather, the eldest voice in Solitudo, almost carried itself.

"We must stand and fight!" I added. "All of us!"

Eventually, all forms of hysteria quelled and a sharper mentality against the incoming Romans was set. Weapons were handed out amongst everyone regardless of age and gender, even shield and light armor, such as leather and chainmail. They may pale in comparison to the overall body armor the Romans have, but it's already better for them than wearing just clothing.

I was the only exception however. I didn't need any armor because I feel as if it would slow me down. I didn't need any weapons because I already have mine in hand.

With everyone armed and ready, we stood in formation before the incoming Roman militia, watching them draw closer and closer with every march, until they company halted about twenty feet before us.

 _Fiesta de Guerra/Bleach Original Soundtrack 3/Shiro Sagisu_

 _(Song Begins)_

The centurion in their squadron stepped forward, and stood between his own army and the enemy.

"My name is Veritas." Their centurion addressed himself formally before us, as if negotiating with us. "You denied us hospitality one month ago and we are here now to keep true on our promise of punishing you invidious lot. Do you have any last words for us before we rend your throats?"

No actual words were spoken against the centurion Veritas. Only shouting, the battle cry of Solitudo as they all charged forward against his small legion.

In response to that, Veritas simply stepped backwards into a more strategic position, just as his own soldiers charged forward to meet the villagers in the middle, right where he once stood. And alongside him, I remained in the back of this fracas, simply because I knew that the most formidable enemy in this squadron is the centurion, and he had to die first.

With all nineteen of Veritas' soldiers occupied with the villagers, clashing blades with them and holding their own against greater numbers, I targeted Veritas vindictively and approached him. He did the same to a man he saw as an upstart for selecting to fight him and _only_ him, and drew both of his swords to meet my own.

Our blades clashed harshly and we were in a standoff, staring ourselves dead in each other's eyes. My unpatched right eye was full of hostile intent, while his were full of confidence.

"Look at you, young upstart!" Veritas began to taunt me. "You opted to go for me instead of my squadron. You either have a death wish or believe yourself to be the strongest warrior in this village!"

"I don't think of myself as the strongest warrior of this village!" I stated for him. "I _know_ I am!"

Slowly but surely, Veritas realized he was losing this standoff by beginning to slide back against the loose dirt terrain, as well as feel his sword arms quiver from overexertion. In response to this, he pushes my swords out of the way and steps back before I could strike him back. And the look he gave me, after I formed a defensive battle stance, was a look of subtle bewilderment.

"You certainly are stronger than you look," He praised me briefly. "But strength alone won't be enough for you to survive."

"Of course not," I already knew that and didn't need a _Roman_ telling me that. "Skill and strategy wins battles."

With that, we both collided into each other again, swinging our swords dexterously at one another, attempting to exploit a gap in each other's guards that would spell our utter demise. But because both of us were aptly skilled, our dual wielding sword duel became akin to a physical chess match between two equally experienced masters.

But as the sparks flew from our blades before our eyes, the edge in this battle was incrementally creeping up in my favor, simply because I had better weaponry and, as he soon found out, greater endurance.

So when I managed to catch both of his dulling blades within the gaps of my own, then twist my wrists a little to lock his swords in place, and see him attempt to release himself from my metal grasp, Veritas began to realize just how much more formidable I was to him.

"Who taught you how to fight?" He couldn't help but utter, in unexpected marvel of my skills.

"…Myself." I told him almost reluctantly.

As soon as I said that, a sharper turn of my hands tweaked my broadswords even further against the short swords that I caught, causing Veritas' weaker weapons to snap in two from the stress of warping unnaturally. And as he was reeling back from seeing a human being actually break metal with metal, I drove my left sword to his chest, through his feeble armor with better metal, and right into his heart.

Through my left sword, I could literally feel his life draining away, and not just from seeing his arterial blood squirt out of his chest and hemorrhage onto the ground. I could feel his body tremble across my blade, across my left hand, even when he dropped down to his knees and feebly coughed up blood.

"W…who… _are_ …you…?" He weakly muttered his final words before I held my right sword grimly against his neck.

"…A bane of Rome."

Those were my last choice words for Veritas before one mighty horizontal swing of my right sword caused his head to hit the floor and his decapitated body to follow shortly after, once I no longer held it upright with my left sword anyway.

 _(Song Ends)_

With the kingpin of this Roman battalion already done away with, the remaining Roman soldiers that the villagers haven't killed were easy pickings for me to finish off in one continuous swoop. I ran towards the remaining five or so soldiers still standing, stabbed them in the back or cut against their necks when they weren't looking, and saved a few villager's lives in the process.

In the end, after surveying Solitudo for any remaining foes, I noticed that villager casualties were kept at their absolute and ideal minimum.

Zero.

"Spero…? Spero?!"

But the grandfather's voice of pure despondency turned my attention instantly over to his location, where I saw him kneeling over his grandson, as he was prone on his back, pale as a corpse, trembling in shock, and holding his abdomen with both hands, as blood still found its way through his fingertips.

A Roman soldier unquestionably drove his sword deep into Spero's abdomen, just as many other Roman soldiers succeeded in doing with a handful of the other villagers in other areas of their body, but couldn't exactly kill anyone because the villager's numbers were just too great for them to properly handle. That being said, if immediate medical attention wasn't given to them within the next hour or so, they will most certainly bleed out, and the Roman scum clinging onto the walls of hell would feel some satisfaction in having successfully killed even a few of the residents of Solitudo.

But instead, the only satisfaction they'll have here is inadvertently driving me out of yet another village, once I'm forced to _literally_ show these people my true colors.

Wordlessly, I sheathe my swords and walk heavily towards Spero and his mourning grandfather. I try my hardest to silence out the elder's incessant bawling, and kneel down on the floor to reach Spero with my bare hands. I take note of how vacant his countenance is becoming, and know that I must work fast in order to save his life.

I close my eyes, inhale and exhale deeply, rhythmically, repeatedly a few times to focus my energy. Then, I open my eyes and clasp my hands together, rubbing them like two sticks for a campfire, until they ignite Green (Healing) Aura and envelop my hands in its supernatural wonders.

Spero's grandfather doesn't notice this until I've set aside Spero's hands from his abdomen, and put mine there in his place.

"What…? What are you…? _How_ are you…?" He was understandably at a loss of words, more so because of blood loss.

"I can do things that no one else can." I told him bluntly, never looking away from Spero's midsection, even though his open wound was already sealing away at a noticeable pace. "…My name…is Eduardo."

"Eduardo…?" Spero's grandfather repeated, searching his mind for previous utterances of that name. "Wait a minute! You're that same boy who‒!"

"Yes, I am." I knew what he was going to say that I've heard hundreds of times before over the years since my banishment.

Once I noticed Spero's abdomen was sealed, I put his hands back over his midsection and stood up, disregarding his blood on my hands as my Elemental Aura slowly peeled it away. I turned my attention towards all of the other villagers of Solitudo that were injured by the Roman legion, and tended to their wounds accordingly. And appropriately, not one of them withdrew themselves from me as I approached them individually. They welcomed me like lungs do oxygen, after seeing what I did for Spero.

Once everything was said and done, I looked off one random corner of Solitudo and slowly began to make my leave from here. No one stopped me, no one wished to stop me, and therefore no one was in disagreement with my choice of actions.

I leave with the mentality that, for the first time since my banishment, I have decided for myself whether I should stay or go, instead of having others decide for me.

* * *

"Individual human beings are all tools, that the others use to help us all survive." —Orson Scott Card (35) (" _Ender's Game_ ")


	2. Diverging Chapter 2

**Diverging Chapter 2: Lucario's Evolution**

Location: Celadon Forest

Date: ?

Time: ?

In the middle of the Celadon Forest, on an open expanse free of trees, was a perfectly suited area of training for Tiny Riolu and the hatchling Riolu. Grovyle stood by in the sidelines, watching from a safe distance away, arms crossed and observing the two Emanation Pokémon like a referee, making sure they don't hurt each other.

Helpful albeit overall unnecessary, because all three of these Pokémon are close friends, even before Grovyle and Tiny found Riolu nearly death from blood loss. The reason for that was caused by a vindictive Absol that saw all Lucario and Riolu as banes of the Pokémon world, and scours the world in eradicating them. That same Absol will return in time, seeing Riolu as a worthy opponent to fight to the death, once some secret training is implemented for them both.

Riolu stood equal to Tiny in size and mass, with the only aesthetic difference separating the two Emanation Pokémon was the shade of blue in their fur coats. Tiny's blue was the default blue while Riolu's appeared considerably darker. And while Tiny was unquestionably more experienced and older than Riolu, the little "bluehorn" has already proven himself to be not only a fast learner, but a prodigious pugilist.

Such expectations should be acknowledged to a Riolu that held his own against that nefarious Absol, even though it narrowly cost him his life. Such early accomplishments should be respected to a Pokémon that learned AURA SPHERE before turning a day old.

"Don't hold back on me, Riolu!" Tiny ordered his opponent. "Hit me with everything you've got!"

 _Companions That Surpassed Their Tribe/Final Fantasy Tactics A2 - The Sealed Grimoire Original Soundtrack/Hitoshi Sakimoto_

 _(Song Begins)_

With his ever-expanding repertoire of techniques, Riolu did just that. He charged forward towards Riolu using AGILITY, literally running circles around the older Emanation Pokémon. However, Tiny could keep track of Riolu's position with ease, through the use of FORESIGHT, which caused Tiny's eyes to turn gold from red, and elevate his two dreadlock-like appendages.

That technique in itself is self-supportive for both Fighting-Type and Normal-Type Pokémon in allowing them to strike Ghost-Type Pokémon, as well as resetting the evasiveness of an opponent. But for users of aura, aka the Lucario and Riolu species, FORESIGHT allows them to view the aura surrounding the environment and all forms of life.

That's why they call it "Aura Vision".

"You're speed is incredible, Riolu!" Tiny noted, his gleaming golden eyes trained forward instead of attempting to follow the dark blue ring surrounding him. "Now, show me your power!"

The transition from AGILITY to QUICK ATTACK was seamless, and Tiny narrowly managed to COUNTER it by grabbing Riolu's coiled paws aimed for his head, before judo throwing the dark blue Emanation Pokémon up and over his head.

Riolu reoriented himself quickly in mid-air, landing back down on the ground, and sprinted back towards Tiny once again. This time, both of Riolu's fists emanated a pure white energy, before being launched forward towards Tiny multiple times as BULLET PUNCH.

Tiny's DETECT kept his body free from being punched by seeing all of the incoming attacks with enhanced perception and then bending his body evasively around each piston jab.

"I said show me your power!" Tiny feigned criticism.

Whether the indirect motivation worked or not mattered not to Tiny. Because shortly after saying that, Riolu's BULLET PUNCH ceased and was almost instantaneously followed by LOW SWEEP. The left-to-right sweep of Riolu's left leg caused Tiny's legs to invert with his head, his use of DETECT failing to work a second time against a second consecutive attack. And dynamically, Riolu struck the side of Tiny's head with a left-handed FORCE PALM, causing a deafening outburst to leave an unsettling ringing sensation in Tiny's left ear, as Tiny's right side dragged alongside the dirt.

Grovyle's eyes were entirely on Tiny, widened and inwardly astonished at how Riolu successfully pierced through Tiny's evasion and effectively turned him into a rag doll.

A few seconds went by where Tiny didn't move a muscle after coming to a skidding halt against the dirt. And moments after that, Riolu believed Tiny was knocked unconscious. If that was the case, then Riolu immediately ran towards Tiny and tended to a friend.

"Tiny…? Tiny?! Are you alright?!"

Of course, because they were still sparring and neither side had yet to throw in the towel, Tiny's eyes quickly opened and he sprung back to life, never knocked unconscious to begin with. Riolu was suddenly struck back through REVERSAL, never quite knowing what it was that hit him until he was flat on his back about ten feet away.

Tiny approached Riolu and stood over him, like a victor about to deal the final _felling_ blow to his/her defeated opponent. But in this case, Tiny stood over Riolu as a friend, and extended his right paw towards him.

"I'm perfectly fine. And you?" Tiny said warmly.

Riolu's eyes looked fondly at Tiny's own, then at the friendly paw extended out for him. Riolu happily grasped it and Tiny assisted him in standing back up.

"In good hands." Riolu said simply, understanding the double meaning in that statement.

* * *

"BULLET SEED!"

Riolu arched himself as far back as he physically could and inhaled deeply simultaneously, before jutting forward and "spitting" out a barrage of pellets at a solid slab of rock, intended to take the punishment of Riolu's attacks. And it was already showing signs of punishment, as dozens of little craters began to form on its surface.

"LEAF BLADE!"

The bony pads on the back of Riolu's wrists began to emanate green energy at Riolu's whim, and quickly elongated in front of Riolu's paws, taking on the shape of two crescent blades at least as long as Riolu's own arms. With this attack, Riolu left numerous cross marks on the surface of the rock before the attack itself wore off after a short period of time.

"MEGA DRAIN!"

With a few deep breaths, Riolu forcibly stabilized his body into a calmed state. Immediately afterward, he began to draw life from the foliage around him, each individual leaf. As a result, his body soon began to illuminate almost excessive amounts of green energy.

"…SOLAR BEAM!"

That overcharged energy was quickly collected into Riolu's palms before it could begin to damage him, and then unleashed in the form of a powerful beam attack, the likes of which the boulder he was assaulting has not yet and will _never_ see again. Because one SOLAR BEAM was more than enough to turn one boulder into thousands of stones and pebbles, as well as a cloud of blanketing dust.

When the dust settled, Riolu's posture remained unchanged and only his breathing and heart rate changed from a calmed nonchalance to a post-marathon run. His arms were still outstretched after guiding the SOLAR BEAM attack in the direction he intended it to go, but they were now trembling rather noticeably, almost as if Riolu had sustained severe hypothermia. Then, when his legs began to buckle, Riolu dropped down onto his knees and forepaws, drained but satisfied, as evident by his smiling and chuckling.

Grovyle, with his arms crossed over his face as an involuntary reflex to defend himself from the dust, slowly lowered them to see the results of Riolu's SOLAR BEAM. And as the Wood Gecko Pokémon soon noticed, not only was the boulder entirely obliterated by the attack, but the energy of it continued unimpeded for a couple of hundred feet, as evident by the circular hole punched through the trunks of some trees and foliage in the background, as well as some trees that were simply cut down and toppled over with near surgical precision.

 _(Song Ends)_

"Mother of Arceus…" Grovyle's eyes were widened and his jaw was dropped. "Not only have you learned all of my current attacks, but you've executed them with a level of experience equal to my own."

Riolu was still too drained to speak, but his strength was returning. He was no longer on all fours and was now resting on one knee, looking at his general direction and taking note of the hole he made across the Celadon Forest.

"And to think," Grovyle continued. "I initially doubted your abilities in learning what I know."

"Your self-named 'Jungle Combat'…" Riolu began to list, now that his normal rate of breathing was stabilizing. "As well as your current arsenal…of Grass-Type attacks and techniques…"

"You shouldn't even be able to _learn_ those kinds of attacks," Grovyle exclaimed, awestricken instead of apprehensive. "No Riolu _alive_ is able to do what you just did."

"…Does that make me the first then?" Riolu wondered, now standing upright as he felt his fatigue disappear.

"As far as Tiny and I are aware of, yes." Grovyle strongly believed. "Now I'm left wondering just how far your versatility can go, what you can do and what you can learn."

"You and me both…" Riolu wondered eagerly, the thought of expanding his horizons elating him.

* * *

Riolu's evolution to a Lucario came as a sudden surprise to both Grovyle and Tiny, mostly because the night before, Lucario slept as a Riolu and awakened in the morning after with a new body, one that was significantly larger than that of a normal Lucario. The reason for Lucario's unexpected evolution at a mere two years of age was made clear to Grovyle and Tiny Riolu when Lucario told them what it was that he dreamt about last night.

" _I had one of the happiest dreams of my life yesterday,_ " Lucario began to explain without speaking through his mouth. " _Both of you were there as my parents. You both adopted me, raised me as your own, taught me everything that you knew, and loved me as if I were your own flesh and blood. I took your actions and your words to heart, and realized that you guys are my true family. When I made that realization, I evolved in my dream._ "

"But as it turns out, you also evolved for real." Tiny speculated.

" _Yes, exactly._ " Lucario confirmed with a smile.

"Congratulations, Rio—I mean, Lucario." Grovyle corrected himself, knowing he had to start referring to his "son" by a new name from now on. "With any luck, I'll be following in your footsteps soon and evolve into a Sceptile."

" _That will be a sight to behold._ " Lucario believed, seldom seeing evolution occur and entranced at the thought of it. " _I wonder if you'll evolve in your sleep or not?_ "

" _As long as it's soon, I don't really care._ " Grovyle said with a smirk.

Lucario nodded at Grovyle before turning his attention over to Tiny. " _I'm_ clearly _younger than you, and yet I'm fully evolved now. Why have you not evolved, Tiny?_ "

"I can think of three reasons why I haven't evolved." Tiny said, before reaching out a paw towards Lucario and tapping the three bony protrusions he now had jutting out of his chest and the back of his wrists. "Reasons one, two, and three."

* * *

Both Grovyle and Tiny saw Lucario's evolution as a plus, especially because it'll mean that he'll stand more of a chance against Absol when he eventually returns from his training and attempts to kill Lucario in a bloody battle. However, as the days went on and as Lucario soon noticed whenever he would walk about the forest and interact with the locals, not everyone was in full agreement or understanding with his evolution.

They all knew Lucario. They all knew of how he was found by Grovyle and Tiny, as an egg that existed in the middle of Celadon Forest, without any logical explanation as to how his egg even ended up here to begin with. There were no other Lucario in Celadon Forest, and no other Pokémon that could even genetically create a Lucario through their propagation. No erotic romp occurred amongst any of the locals that was worth telling—that was worth _admitting_ to tell—, no eggs were laid by any of the females that match the descriptions of a Riolu egg—that was worth _admitting_ to anyway—, and no signs of a Lucario mother roaming this forest.

While they saw Lucario as a bit of an outsider, they never really stated that outright. Some Pokémon adore and admire him, even asking him to teach them what he knows, and they in return. Others kept their distance and had the luxury of hiding in a forest that stretched for miles, an area much to broad for a sole Lucario to sweep over with Aura Vision. Those that loved Lucario were the ones that Lucario himself interacted with, because they were around. And when the questions were asked about who Lucario's _actual_ parents are, where he _actually_ came from, Lucario's only response was this.

" _Grovyle and Tiny are my family. They're more than just my friends. I've known them all my life and I hope it stays that way. As for who my actual parents are, I don't really care, and I don't see myself engaging in an epic, life-changing quest to go look for them. After all, they don't love me the way Grovyle and Tiny do._ "

* * *

High atop one of the tallest trees of Celadon Forest, Lucario perched himself on the tallest branch, meditating and maintaining his balance with one leg. As he did so, there was a bit of a breeze that made the apex of this tree wobble ever so slightly. Luckily for Lucario, this didn't bother him at all, as he still maintained proper balance.

Then, after a few moments, his ears perked up and his eyes opened sharply, spontaneously gleaming gold via Aura Vision, as he sensed the presence of an incoming swarm of Pokémon, the likes of which Celadon Forest has never seen before.

 _Massive Outbreak/Solaris/Two Steps From Hell_

 _(Song Begins)_

The swarm of Pokémon, as Lucario soon identified them as, were a cluster of Pinsir, all of them hostile, based on the ominously fitting colors of their respective auras. And standing against them, between the forest and the Pinsir horde, were a majority of the residents of Celadon Forest.

Both Grovyle and Tiny Riolu included in their ranks.

Without hesitating, Lucario leaned forward and fell headfirst from the tallest branch of the tallest tree that he was standing on earlier. He fell a few hundred feet before suddenly inverting his body back to feet first, and using two FORCE PALM attacks, one from each paw, to drastically slow down his nearing terminal velocity descent, before landing on one of the trees below.

From there, Lucario implemented his inherited jungle combat prowess and darted across the foliage at nearly traceless speeds, knowing that the sooner he would be there, the more likely they would drive away the threat with his help.

* * *

Most of the Pokémon that have made Celadon Forest their home understand what a Pinsir horde of this magnitude can do to their ecosystem. If allowed to have their way by a show of careless pacifism, the Pinsir will drive them all away by a brutal show of territorialism, and then devour the sap in the trees without restraint. If that happens, they'll essentially keep on feeding from the trees until they're drained dry, where they'll inevitably wither away and die, a fate equal to having the trees be chopped down by human beings.

Which is why, when the Pinsir horde was made visible to the group of Celadon Forest denizens, they all charged towards them as they were doing to them. And it wasn't long before Celadon Forest became a battlefield between forest Pokémon and an invading parasitic horde.

The majority of the citizens of Celadon Forest are Grass-Type Pokémon, and therefore have a disadvantage against the Pinsir's Bug-Type Attribute. However, many of the Grass-Type Pokémon possess a second Type Attribute, which they've exercised more against the Pinsir.

Those that were part Poison-Type (such as Venusaur, Victreebel, and Vileplume) sprayed venomous concoctions towards the Pinsir that were close enough to their reach, or _made_ close enough for them to reach after they used VINE WHIP. Those that were part Flying-Type (such as Jumpluff and Tropius) attempted to blow the Pinsir back with their wings and Flying-Type attacks. Those that were part Bug-Type (such as Leavanny, Parasect, and Wormadam) exchanged Bug-Type attacks with Bug-Type attacks). Luckily for the pure, primary, or secondary Grass-Type Pokémon, there were just as many other Pokémon of different Type Attributes that could hold their own and even offer their invaluable support, such as the bulky Normal-Types (Kangaskhan and Snorlax) and the swift Flying-Types (Pidgeot and Scyther).

Overall, their combination proved equal to the raw numbers the Pinsir possessed. Neither side gave in to one another, and neither side gained any ground against each other.

Grovyle and Tiny, in the middle of all of this territorial dispute, tracked down the apex Pinsir of the horde through Tiny's Aura Vision ability, in order to sense which one possessed the strongest aura signature or had the most _authoritative_ aura.

Sure enough, they found it, just as that same Pinsir found them.

"So, you must be the super-cool Pinsir," Grovyle began. "The Pinsir that is different from other Pinsir. The Pinsir that is in the top percentage of Pinsir. Do you know what I'm saying?"

The alpha Pinsir that Grovyle was conversing with understood Grovyle's words, but could only respond with a series of clicks, cracks, sharp hissing, and raspy breathing sounds. In other words, the Pinsir don't speak their language, because they're physically incapable of speaking their language.

"Not even I know what you were saying, Grovyle." Tiny admitted. "I feel like you were quoting someone."

"Eh, it doesn't matter." Grovyle formed a battle stance and faced the head Pinsir, just as Tiny Riolu did the same. "In a few moments, this overgrown insect will just be a stain on the floor after we've stepped all over it."

Not surprisingly, the Pinsir took great offense to this and charged forwards towards Grovyle. Both of its pincers were angled down, aimed towards Grovyle's neck, clasping against each other a few times as Pinsir was about to use X-SCISSOR on the Wood Gecko Pokémon.

Instead of evading it, Grovyle met the attack head on with LEAF BLADE. And as both Pokémon clashed attacks with the expertise of two swordsmen, Tiny joined in by using COPYCAT on Grovyle's used attack, emulating LEAF BLADE and attacking Pinsir with it as well.

Pinsir could keep up with Grovyle's speed just fine with its horns, but not when the numbers are two-to-one against it. In response, when Tiny was about to strike at its head, Pinsir actually caught the LEAF BLADE with its pincers, and then tossed Tiny skyward with SEISMIC TOSS, only to receive a vengeful LOW KICK from Grovyle, followed by a harsh LEAF BLADE across the side of Pinsir's body/face.

Pinsir was sent flying back, but unlike Tiny, didn't land back on its feet when it fell to the ground. Both Grovyle and Tiny stared attentively at this Pinsir, while simultaneously seeing the battle surrounding them beginning to grow one-sided in _their_ favor.

 _(Song Ends)_

"You should get up and run away now," Tiny strongly suggested.

"If you don't, we _will_ kill you." Grovyle finished Tiny's ultimatum.

Pinsir couldn't speak their language _verbally_ , but could do so physically. For example, after rolling onto its face and then getting back onto its feet, it stared intensely at Grovyle and crackled something _spitefully_ at the Wood Gecko Pokémon, in its own language. Then, before both Grovyle and Tiny had a chance to even register Pinsir's next attack, Grovyle found itself suddenly thrown back and pinned to a tree, with Pinsir's powerful pincers pinioning the pitiable Pokémon.

The cause of this was through Pinsir's QUICK ATTACK.

"Grovyle!" Tiny shouted and began running towards the jeopardized Wood Gecko Pokémon, only to be sideswiped by another Pinsir and unable to act in time for his friend.

"Tiny!" Grovyle noticed this and then looked back down at the Pinsir in front of him, with growing animosity and fear, especially when the pair of pincers he found himself unnervingly wedged between began to shift against the bark it was _apparently_ pinned against.

Grovyle heard and felt the bark of the tree it was pinned against break and splinter, before hastily putting its own claws against Pinsir's closing pincers knowing that the only thing keeping his head on his body and not severed and rolling on the floor was his physical strength and force of will.

Pinsir' continued to crackle, almost malevolently, as it not only had Grovyle in prime position for its decapitating GUILLOTINE attack, but could begin to feel Grovyle's surprisingly stalwart grip begin to weaken.

Grovyle felt this as well, and could feel the stress of this situation begin to flood his body with adrenaline, make his lips curl up and display his grit teeth, make his eyes dilate and display their bloodshot alarm. And despite all of these physical and internal supplementations, Grovyle could feel Pinsir's superior strength gradually wear him down.

It didn't take long for Grovyle's life to flash before his eyes in rapid succession. Images of his nomadic life, the construction of his tree house in Celadon Forest, meeting Tiny Riolu for the first time, meeting _Lucario_ for the first time, all of it flashed before his eyes. And at the end of this, Grovyle could see his _corpse_ ingrain itself into the tree, his severed head a few feet away from his feet, both of them already decaying and being layered over by flowers.

Flowers that are mournfully left behind by Lucario and Tiny.

"(I'm…I'm not meant to die here! Not yet!)" Grovyle's thoughts flared intensely, his mental words themselves combating against the mental image he presently had. "(I have Pokémon that care for me, that I care for! You don't! I have family! You don't!)"

The Pinsir that collided into Tiny was knocked aside and "properly" taken care of. Tiny began to madly make his way over towards Grovyle, but found himself stopping when he sensed an overall _change_ going on for the Wood Gecko Pokémon.

Even though Pinsir was unable to look at Grovyle's face as it was using its GUILLOTINE attack, it could still see his body below the neck. And as the Pinsir soon noticed, Grovyle's entire body began to glow a pure white light.

The pristine white light of evolution.

 _Deep Seeded/Dreams & Imaginations (Disc 3 - Tragic & Sad)/Two Steps From Hell_

 _(Song Begins)_

Pinsir gave _more_ of its all in attempting to cleave Grovyle's neck in half, before it was too late. But as Pinsir soon noticed through Grovyle's rapidly growing body and growing strength, putting in more effort was a double-edged, rapidly deteriorating tactic. Not only was Pinsir's GUILLOTINE failing due to Grovyle's arms spreading apart its pincers, but they were beginning to show signs of warping to borderline breaking.

Not that Grovyle cared about that, not after shoving Pinsir back after conquering its strength with his own, and then lashing out with NIGHT SLASH, striking Pinsir so squarely across its body/face that a noticeable horizontal scar formed on its carapace.

This fresh wound pissed off the Stag Beetle Pokémon before it attempted to strike back at Grovyle with REVENGE, with the intent of felling him before he could finish his evolution. But it was too little, too late, as Grovyle's elongating tail was formed nearly fully enough for him to swat the oversized Bug-Type Pokémon aside with a single IRON TAIL.

Now Pinsir was not only flown back and colliding into a tree with its back, but actually stuck and embedded onto the tree, unable to break free without assistance, something that it soon discovered was an impossibility as most of the Pinsir had either fled or had been felled already. All it could do now was watch as Grovyle's evolution finalized and the white light faded away, revealing his new body before the residents and _intruders_ of Celadon Forest.

The body of a Sceptile.

"…Grovyle?" Tiny stood bewildered before the new body of his old friend, so bewildered that he took a few seconds to realize the mistake he made. "I mean, Sceptile? Are you alright?"

The same yellow eyes that Sceptile had as a Grovyle remained mostly unchanged, but possessed a sharper glare to them, even unintentionally as Tiny found himself withdrawing back slightly when the Forest Pokémon looked down on him.

"…No Tiny, I'm not alright. I'm not alright at all." Sceptile's new voice was slightly deeper and hissed more than his old voice. Of course, that could've been because Sceptile was concealing his growing malevolence towards the Pinsir pinned to the tree. "I have a parasite that thinks it can just waltz into my forest and feed from it until it rots, without contributing at all to its overall growth."

"… _Your_ forest?" Tiny repeated, unsure if Sceptile is overcome with feelings of superiority or is imprinted with feelings of protection over his natural habitat.

"Little does that Pinsir know that it _will_ contribute to the health of this forest." Sceptile said while cracking his knuckles and neck by turning his head sharply clockwise and counterclockwise. "After I crush its body, I'll turn it into compost!"

Sceptile's Overgrow ability was triggered, in direct response to a potent amalgamation of spite for Pinsir and its intentions, and wear of his physical stamina. The Forest Pokémon's body began to brilliantly emanate a green aura, the likes of which the trees and foliage surrounding Sceptile actually blossomed before. The grass by Sceptile's feet grew to twice their original length, the flowers bloomed more brilliantly, and the bark and wood of the trees groaned and stretched from their spontaneous growth spurt.

In seeing this, the Pinsir attempted to break free from the tree that it was pinned from, but couldn't. And even if it could, Sceptile's Overgrow aura actually caused the tree that the Pinsir was pinned against to come to life. The roots came out of the earth like the tentacles of a Tentacruel, and wrapped themselves _tightly_ against their own tree trunk, with Pinsir in the middle of it.

Sceptile's arms were reaching for the sky as the six seed-like nodules lining his back in three rows of two began to glow with power, starting from the bottom row and moving its way up to the other two. Then, within Sceptile's palms, two orbs of shining green aura were beginning to form, as _all_ of Sceptile's available power was migrating there for one final, necessary, and _decisive_ attack.

"FRENZY PLANT!"

Both of Sceptile's arms came crashing down into the earth, embedding themselves past the elbows, and causing a series of thorned tree roots to come surging from the earth around Sceptile, stretching up as tall as him. Then, with Sceptile's eyes locked onto the Pinsir caught between a tree and a hard place, all of the oversized tree roots that Sceptile summoned stretched towards the pinned Pinsir.

Tiny simply watched in amazement as Sceptile's FRENZY PLANT collided into the tree, collided against each other, obliterating the target with its mass, ferocity, and extreme prejudice. All that was left was a pile of roots and gnarled firewood, the likes of which the Pinsir couldn't sensibly survive in as the seconds ticked by.

…Or so they think.

 _(Song Ends)_

From the top of this desolation, Pinsir's claws broke through, before the rest of its battered and bruised body followed suit, much to Sceptile's disbelief.

"Arceus-damn Bug-Types…" Sceptile thought, having enough energy left over to uproot his arms from the dirt, but not enough to keep his hands off of its surface. "They don't stay squished…even if you squish them…"

The side effects of Sceptile's FRENZY PLANT have left him immobilized from the fatigue alone, vulnerable to a counterattack that would likely come from an enraged Pinsir. Tiny understood this and was immediate in standing in front of Sceptile, ready to defend him if Pinsir had half a mind to come at him.

"If you want to go through him, you'll have to go through _me_ first!" Tiny asserted, ready to strike back in order to protect his friend.

The Pinsir's response to this came in the form of a sharp hissy exhalation, as if _scoffing_ at Tiny's boast, or perhaps his choice of words. And when both Sceptile and Tiny recognized Pinsir's underestimation of their warning, Pinsir made a fact clear to them.

Concealed within its mouth, after Pinsir likely regurgitated it from its maw, was a Pinsirite.

"…Oh shit." Both Sceptile and Tiny found themselves saying in unison.

Pinsir quickly triggered the power of the Pinsirite, immediately enveloping the Stag Beetle Pokémon in a revolving dome of pure energy, a chrysalis for ascension, one that shattered a few seconds later in a surge of power that actually shredded most of the leaves from the trees within a fifty feet radius of Pinsir.

Or, as it became clear to both Sceptile and Tiny, _Mega_ Pinsir.

In this new body, Mega Pinsir's eyes intensified from their normal white to a piercing yellow glare. Its pincers and claws became more prominent, more evolved for swift assassinations. But the biggest change for Mega Pinsir came in the form of its additional Flying-Type attribute, which Mega Pinsir oh so _fittingly_ displayed by opening the covers of its wings behind its back, outstretching its transparent wings, and taking flight straight towards its two hated adversaries.

Both Sceptile and Tiny stood their ground against the ascended Mega Pokémon, one because he doesn't have a choice, and the other because he adamantly won't leave a friend behind.

Mega Pinsir was about to come in with THRASH (which through its Aerilate ability, would've been fatal for Sceptile and Tiny Riolu), but was cut down to size by a force it failed to see coming.

Lucario.

With QUICK ATTACK, Lucario moved faster than Mega Pinsir and reached the ascended Stag Beetle Pokémon head on. And then by following up with METAL CLAW, Lucario simply held his right arm towards Pinsir's face, or its entire body to be specific. Both sides approached each other with Mega Pinsir never seeing the surprise attack coming, met, and kept going in their respective directions. Lucario landed gracefully onto the earth, with his right pair of METAL CLAWs painted in the unnaturally colored blood of a Bug-Type Pokémon, and Mega Pinsir landed gracelessly on its face, all four evenly cut _slices_ of it.

Mega Pinsir was literally cut down to size, lengthwise, with its wings still buzzing faintly as an involuntary reflex before stopping altogether when its thread of life was severed.

After withdrawing his METAL CLAWs, Lucario stood back up and approached a relieved Sceptile and Tiny, insensitively stepping over the cadaverous carapace of the fallen Mega Pinsir in the process. He reached out a supporting paw for Sceptile to grasp onto and helped him get back up on his feet.

"What took you so long?" Sceptile said seriously. "If I hadn't evolved, I would've lost my head to that pest!"

" _But you didn't,_ " Lucario said simply, not wanting to argue about what could've been and preferring not to think about that. " _You evolved, you both wore it down, and I came in just in time to deliver the final blow._ "

Tiny separated from the two fully evolved Pokémon and approached the dead Mega Pinsir, seeing how its body remained in the form it died in, and seeing no trace of the Pinsirite used to have it Mega Evolve to begin with.

"Look on the bright side, Gro—I mean, Sceptile." Tiny almost said Sceptile's former name out of a force of habit. "At least you can make Mega Pinsir into compost now."

Sceptile's eyes quickly looked at the Mega Pinsir's mutilated body before he looked away in utter disgust of it. "I'd sooner burn it for a campfire than poison the trees with its husk."

" _How about a bonfire, and a feast?_ " Lucario suggested. " _I feel as though we should celebrate a job well done, for_ all _of us._ "

With the battle over after the last Pinsir was slain or fled the forest, a celebration was made amongst the residents, the victors against the defeated invaders. Through this celebration, everybody who participated in the fight was praised, with no one having tragically died and only injured at best, primarily thanks to teamwork. Those that were praised the most were Lucario, Sceptile, and Tiny Riolu, albeit Sceptile the most, for being the MVP (Most Valuable Pokémon) by fighting the head Pinsir.

Throughout the night, The residents happily dined on the cooked and seasoned carcasses of the Pinsir that they felled, exchanging stories and jokes at each other, having a wonderful time and hoping that these times last as long as they remain in this forest together.

Lucario thought of these things as well, thought about spending his entire life here in Celadon Forest, with Sceptile and Tiny Riolu, the pair of Pokémon that he has committed to heart as labeling them as his family. But alongside this, he also thought about Absol. He didn't entirely think about the kind of Pokémon he is, but the kind of Pokémon that had his life directed to _become_ that.

What happened in Absol's life to have him hunt down every single Lucario and Riolu that he comes across? What grudge, if any, does he hold against them, against Lucario's own race, his mirrored flesh and blood?

Perhaps the answers will come when he and Absol inevitably clash. But for now, he's just pleased that he's grown up alongside Pokémon that love and respect him for who he is, and not entirely fear him for what he's capable of.

* * *

"If the purpose of life was just to continue into the future, then none of it would have meaning, because it would be all anticipation and preparation." —Orson Scott Card (289) (" _Children of the Mind_ ")


	3. Diverging Chapter 3

**Diverging Chapter 3: Absol's Loss of Heart**

Location: Snowpoint Mountains

Date: ?

Time: ?

 _Gift of Life/Illusions/Thomas J. Bergersen_

 _(Song Begins)_

On a cold and grey mountain range across the northernmost corners of Sinnoh, during a tormenting blizzard that would threaten to freeze any unprotected outside life within seconds, a neighborhood of family Absol were temporarily taking shelter in a cave. Within this crevice in the crag, no individual Absol was distinguishable. Just the mass that they took up with their collective mounds of white fur, as they were huddled and fluffed up tightly against each other for warmth, gave a vague clue about their numbers.

And within the center of this family, where the body heat was warmest, was a male Absol with her heavily pregnant mate, an upcoming father and mother, their offspring impending during the whiteout.

The father-to-be was offering his spouse physical support, by having her rest alongside him, even licking her across the face for emotional support. Some of the surrounding Absol that were huddled up alongside also supported the mother-to-be, by rubbing her belly to keep her calm and nestling themselves as close as they physically and comfortably can to her for warmth against the outside snowstorm. Those by her rear end even aided by cleaning up the amniotic fluid she was discharging by lapping it up with their tongues before it causes the impending mother any unnecessary discomfort when it freezes.

Overall, their aid was helpful, but it would pale to the physical discomfort she would endure as each individual pup squirms their way out of her engorged, warm womb and into the starving, cold world.

One contraction at a time, each and every individual Absol pup slowly made their way into the outside world. One by one, they were squeezed along their mother's narrow birth canal, crowned at the end of her genitals, squelched out when she gave them each her final push, and fell onto a waiting mass of warm white fur and soft black paws, instead of onto the cold rocky floor that would likely shock these newborn pups into death seconds after their birth. Each of these pups were carefully carried over to the waiting mother's mouth, lovingly and properly licked clean of any lingering traces of their time in her abdomen. Each of their high-pitched and infantile yips, echoed within the rock walls of this cavern and the mass of huddled Absol but dwarfed by the frigid gales of the arctic environment, brought great joy to _all_ of the Absol. Each of them, that was able to, helped welcome new members to their clan, one newborn at a time.

As the numbers of pups grew, the birthing Absol's belly shrank. One pup soon became two, then four, then six, then eight, then ten, twelve, fourteen. All of them lined up against their mother's teats, suckling on her warm milk, thankful that they have such luxury in the middle of this snowfall, while all of the other Absol were fasting and ensuring these babies were kept alive and well, not once feeling the cold in the middle of their huddle, not once seeing a world of rough grey after leaving their world of maternal red and pink.

But one last Absol, her _fifteenth_ Absol as the mother soon discovered by feeling her belly, still chose to cling onto the safety of her womb, not because it wanted to, but because it lacked the strength to be born.

For the last Absol pup in this litter, only the mother and father were this unborn pup's aid. The mother Absol rested her back on the belly of her father, breathed heavily as she felt her strained uterus contract and her pressured cervix dilate one last time. She felt her loosened vaginal walls expand against the mass of sopping white fur, the head of the noticeably smaller Absol emerge from her protruding vulva, before the rest of the pup wetly squeezed out from between the legs of its mother, caught in another pair of welcoming midwife paws and brought up to her mouth.

As she licked away the placenta from this final pup, as the runt of the litter opened its mouth and cried loudly and blindly to the world, both she and her mate contemplated the future of this pup, their son upon closer inspection.

They fantasized great things for this Absol, not because it was first, but because it was last. They believed him to be full of potential, not because he was the largest amongst his siblings, but because he was the smallest. They wouldn't pick favorites amongst their litter of fifteen sons and daughters and would teach them as evenly as they possibly can. They would only see this Absol trying the hardest of them all, blessed with determination that would come from being the last of his mother's newborn offspring.

That's what the pair of Absol believed. That's what the surrounding Absol expected, in this unforgiving landscape.

In the Snowpoint Mountains, blizzards can last for days on end, changing the landscape every single time with the amount of snow they deposit. The mother Absol's entire labor, much to her relief, lasted just over one day. But the joy of seeing all fifteen of her babies, huddled among themselves as they pushed and shoved each other for their share of their mother's milk, made the pain almost nonexistent.

 _(Song Ends)_

* * *

Even in an environment as harsh as the cold north Arrowhead of Sinnoh, even in an environment where survival is best exercised by hiding in a cave during a blizzard, searching for food where it still manages to grow, and huddling up with friends and family for warmth (unless you're an Ice-Type Pokémon), wasted energy still exists in the form of conflict.

In Snowpoint Mountains, unbeknownst to any daring human hiker unless they've done their homework on the terrain, the most persistent conflict occurs _not_ amongst the Ice-Types because they're mostly lone wolf-like Pokémon, or among the cave-dwelling Pokémon such as Golbat and Graveler.

The largest conflicts occur between the Absol Clan and the Lucario Clan.

Over the course of a year, both of these clans would clash at least thrice, all over territorial disputes to an area far too big for either of them to cover with their paltry albeit steady numbers, but with plenty of sustenance and comfort worth fighting and protecting over, where such trinkets were difficult to come by in Snowpoint.

When both sides clash, the snow is painted red with the blood of fierce dog-like Pokémon, and their cries are audible in the harshest of blizzards. Over territorial disputes that, in their eyes, are worth fighting for in an area that will likely kill them if they attempt to leave it or search elsewhere, plenty of Absol and Lucario have had their corpses frozen over the growing blankets of ice and snow. The environment and their general balance of strength, skill, and numbers keeps both of these clans from killing each other off, and their numbers always seem to fluctuate back, even when one clan outnumbers the other three-to-one. The fact that they reproduce actively–and perhaps _invitingly_ –in between these fights is what keeps their clans alive.

But the fact that the average age of death for an Absol or a Lucario (or Riolu juvenile) in this environment is rarely greater than a few years, and the _cause_ of death is over these conflicts, either says that they're willing to fight for what they want, or that they're simply killing each other over arctic scraps.

And the fighting between these two clans has been going on for generations, with neither side even budding one "special" child that are willing to unite these clans and end the senseless fighting, through means such as having a marital bond between species and bearing a litter of pups.

Those that fought in these seldom territorial disputes fought bravely for their ambitions, vigorously against the chomping cold, barbarically against their enemies, and protectively towards their comrades. At times, when the "disputes" were over, both sides would take back fallen members of the opposite clan that they could salvage for food, either bits and pieces or whole bodies if they were lucky. And rarely, when the need to satiate their own hungers made them desperate, those that managed to retreat from the fight alive carried with them one of their fallen fellow comrades to cannibalize.

Such is the world that the Absol runt was born into. Such is the world that he will be cast into in a few years, alongside his brothers and sisters, whether he wants to or not.

* * *

 _Red Army/ Dynasty (CD 2)/Two Steps From Hell_

 _(Song Begins)_

Another sanguine fight for territory breaks out between the Lucario Clan and the Absol Clan. The location that they are fighting for is the summit of one of the tallest mountains in sight. Their targeted prize lacks any means necessary for providing sustenance, but its interweaving cavern system alongside its penetration of the blizzard clouds makes it prime nesting material for the kinfolk that claims it.

As a result, the fight between Absol and Lucario is one of their bloodiest brawls yet. Both sides takes substantial losses almost immediately, be they rent asunder by a Lucario's disemboweling METAL CLAW attack, or hacked into dozens of pieces by an Absol's PSYCHO CUT. Both sites, through their brutality, killed more of each other's enemies at a faster rate than in previous disputes, to the point where it was obvious that both sides were willing to sacrifice _everything_ for their proper place in an arctic hell.

In the middle of their dispute, barrages of AURA SPHERE and SHADOW BALL attacks were glanced off by swift parries by the opposition. However, because of the long distances these attacks can travel after being fired, as well as their explosive nature, missed attacks in their parts struck a distant hillside. And on that hillside, hundreds of thousands of tons of snow, almost a dozen feet high across its steep slope, were disrupted by the series of explosions, resulting in an avalanche the likes of which neither clan were properly braced for.

At the sight of the incoming wall of snow, both sides stopped their fight outright and ran for their lives. Dozens of Absol and dozens of Lucario ran alongside each other, neither side necessarily acknowledging either side's ceasefire. Multiple lives across both clans were lost into the snow by the simple action of tripping over the opposition when they hurried too close to their enemies. Those that were farther spread ran more or less at the same rate of speed, a Lucario's long bipedal stride gliding over as much ground as an Absol's quadrupedal rout.

Eventually, stamina was what decided the fate of either clan. And because of a Lucario's greater level of endurance, alongside their bipedal natures, they would survive this avalanche.

Each and every Lucario, as they saw the rolling blanket of smothering snow creep closer and closer to them as the mountain's slope began to incrementally decline, wasted no time in leaping towards the tallest and thickest trees that they could find. Most of them made it after a few bounds across its branches. But those that misjudged the diameter of the trunks found themselves on sinking wooden ships, entirely consumed by the rampant avalanche.

Unable to climb the trees properly or _quickly_ enough because of their quadrupedal natures, each and every remaining Absol was systematically picked off one by one by the voracious mass of white water. Few were unfortunate to trip and find themselves buried alive. Others attempted to cut through the snow with the use of FLAMETHROWER and even FIRE BLAST, only to find themselves getting wet before getting rolled over. Those that remained soon found no more ground to run on, as the mountain's slope dropped straight down, leading to a thousand foot drop to a mass of jagged rocks. And the last collection of Absol didn't even have the luxury of choosing their manner of death before mother nature killed them _twice_ over, from the harsh impact of the avalanche, to the resulting bursting of their bodies upon crashing down into the toothed rocks below.

The Lucario that were still in the trees watched in fascination at the twist of fate that Arceus appeared to bless them with. What began as a relatively even fight, as was commonly the case between both sides, has led to a shift in nature that has cost the Absol clan of its selected warriors to "negotiate" with. The Lucario that remained, once the avalanche ended and they dropped down onto ten feet higher of snow, felt as if the universe itself was aligning to their desires and their need for survival.

Through the stars, as they began to fantasize, constellations were reorienting themselves to spell out their next objective. And in their minds, that next objective was simple, but never within reach until now, because of their expected resistance.

Kill _all_ of the Absol of Snowpoint Mountains.

With that sadistically simple ideology in mind, the surviving Lucario warriors of this squabble returned back to their respective home, back to their respective clan. They would bring their public a message of survival, of ambition, of conquest, of death to the Absol Clan.

 _(Song Ends)_

* * *

"It's not fair! It's just not fair!"

Back in the Absol Clan's cavern dwelling, the fully-grown Absol runt paced back and forth by the entrance of the cave, not necessarily impatient, but eager.

"Son! You need to stop pacing back and forth!" Absol's father shouted out, fed up with seeing this kind of behavior. "I know you're disappointed that you didn't get to join your brothers and sisters in our territorial clashes with the Lucario Clan, but wasting energy by fuming over it won't change any of that!"

In all of Absol's life, it always seemed that he drew the short end of the stick, was given the scraps of a meal, was always last in line, always in the shadow of his family, overlooked and seldom acknowledged. Even as he fought harder than those in his family, than _other_ Absol in their own families, even as he learned more than any other Absol, his role in life has always been controlled by someone else who thinks themselves better than him. It infuriated him to no end, and would only bring him and his parents hyperbolized trouble when matters about his striving son were brought up.

"I should be fighting alongside them! They don't know attacks that _I_ know!" Absol turned to face his father, glaring daggers at him, approaching him as each word he said made his body and face draw closer to him, until their snouts were practically pressing against each other's. "What do they know that can leave a dent on a Steel-Type Pokémon?! What can they do to negate the pummeling of a Fighting-Type Pokémon?!"

"They have a surplus of tactics and techniques that keeps us on par with the nefarious Lucario Clan!" Absol's father matched his son's voice with his own, having grown used to arguing with the runt of his litter. "That's how we've survived for generations!"

"That's how the _Lucario_ Clan has survived for generations!" Absol continued. "If I were there, I'd _incinerate_ them, show them what it's like to die by hellfire than by hoarfrost!"

"That's _precisely_ why you're not fighting with your brothers and sisters!" Absol's father pointed out. "The techniques you know, as one of few Absol in our Clan that have learned to master their inner fire, are better preserved here, where we can bask in your warmth rather than harness it into a weapon! There's more to survival than just fighting, son! Never forget that!"

In the middle of their father-son quarrel, the telltale moaning of a pregnant Pokémon in labor echoed further down the cavern, causing the father's and son's attention to shift to her wellbeing.

"Your mother's expecting again." Absol's father said softly, not wishing to argue with his son anymore in regards to tending to his partner. "Come. I need you to help me be her midhusband."

Absol's earlier feelings of frustration at not being able to participate with his brothers and sisters in bloody territorial battles against the Lucario Clan were _instantaneously_ replaced with feelings of absolute repulsion, which he made no effort in hiding with his gnarled countenance, protruding tongue, and gagging sounds.

"I know you find labor disgusting, son," Absol's father immediately noticed Absol's blatant reluctance and repugnance. "But, for the sake of your mother and I, you must bear a strong stomach and assist me. Everyone else still here is guarding the entrance and making sure our torches don't burn out. Their fires make arctic life much more bearable."

The words of his father didn't entirely help him as well as they should, simply because Absol was hardly paying attention to them in the middle of his own thoughts. His mind was now hyperbolically imagining females in labor, where babies were fired out of _more_ than just from between their legs, and remained so as he proceeded further into the cavern alongside his father.

As he grew up, he lived in an uncensored environment, full of hardships, sexuality, and violence, where everything was explained in _all_ of its details to him and every other youngling as soon as they could register words. As Absol was explained of it, they live in a frozen hell, where food is scarce and survival depends on what they can win from fighting the Lucario Clan, as well as reproduce actively and _frequently_ to keep their numbers up.

Not surprisingly, Absol saw death and sex long before he was fully mature enough to do it himself, and Absol _has_ done it himself as was required out of every single able-bodied male, regardless of emotional boundaries between pairs. Absol saw bloody bodies coming into the cavern that were the results of a successful hunt, as well as bloody bodies coming out of a cavern that were the results of a successful birth. Of course, in regards to seeing an Absol pup being born, Absol wasn't exactly disgusted by the messy miracle of life, and most certainly not by seeing a second pair of "lips" gape open while hard at work. In fact, as Absol was the midhusband for other Absol mothers and mothers-to-be, he found it oddly attractive to look at and work around, no doubt as any _other_ Absol male soon found it. But in his particular case, he found himself developing an affinity to their rotund bellies, not their genitalia.

These thoughts of his preferred fetishes quickly evaporated and were replaced back with disgust when he saw his pregnant mother lying on her backside on a makeshift bed of helpful, fluffier Absol. Here forepaws were resting on her pregnant belly, feeling and physically seeing the pups shifting and lining up within her, rising and falling rhythmically with her every breath, for their inevitable journey out. Her hind legs were spread Braviary, necessary for her Absol aides to keep her unmentionables as clean as possible with the use of their tongues and to keep herself as flexible as possible…at the possible expense of her dignity. The digits of her paws flexed and curled as she felt each contraction come and go. And her genitals were already starting to protrude as the first pup in her second litter began to squeeze down her dilated birth canal.

"How are you feeling, my love?" Absol's father spoke up, keeping his eyes firmly on her face and not further south, even as her assistants were instinctively feeding on her broken water.

"Mmmmmh…" Absol's mother moaned lightly at the feeling of her first pup wedge itself between her pelvis, or perhaps at the barbed tongue of one of her midwifes as it brushed against a _particularly_ sensitive spot. "Outside of the powerful urge…to pee and poop _badly_ …I feel like I can get by…just fine."

"…" Absol felt sick to his stomach at the sight of her pregnant mother in such a revealing physical position. And hearing her joke about bodily functions that naturally and _commonly_ happen when a female is pushing during her labor made him actually swallow some bile that managed to come up into his mouth, only to be blocked off by his closed mouth and disgustingly swallowed back down with a lingering, terrible taste.

"Oh honey," Absol's father got on top of the bed of white fur (much to the faint groans of the "mattresses") and sat beside his expecting wife. "Just let it go. We're here to keep you calm for the sake of you and your litter. You don't need to bottle yourself up with unnecessary thoughts."

"But in _here_?" Absol's mother began to feel dirty, despite the efforts of many in keeping her clean and calm. "With their mouths near my...mmmmh…' _naughty_ bits'?"

"Eh, we've all eaten worse." Absol's father didn't care, not after seeing the bigger picture. "It's better sustenance than eating the dirt off of the ground, or yellow snow."

"…" Absol could begin to feel his stomach convulse, juggling the pitiful excuse for a meal he had eaten yesterday. The sight of his mother crowning his first new brother or sister only worsened his urge to vomit.

"But…but I don't want to…mmmmh….nnnngh…!"

In the end, she didn't have a choice in the matter as she found her teeth clenched and her eyes closed tightly as she pushed the first of many Absol babies from her womb, alongside a pair of other "extras" that found themselves seeping out of her rear end. And as Absol's father brought the pup up to his wife to clean up, and as the other aides assisting her cleaned up her little "accident", they also helped clean up Absol's accident, when he finally found himself throwing up at the sight of their simultaneous coprophagia and urophagia.

"Miracle of life my furry white _ass!_ " Absol spoke while gargling bile and drooling on the floor, which was lapped up by another Absol regardless, as absolutely _nothing_ is let to go to waste.

"Oh no, son." Absol's father rephrased. "You mean _her_ furry white ass."

"Hehehe…" Absol's mother couldn't help but chuckle in between licking her new daughter clean and the ongoing uterine contractions. "Even though it's a little bit…brown and red and yellow right now."

"That's it! I'm out!" Absol turned tail and ran out of here and the cavern altogether, unable to handle the environment, the sight of her haughtily bare and pregnant mother, the filth coming out of her, the filth their aides were mindlessly swallowing, their sick sense of humor, and the general personality of his parents. "Eat shit for all that I care!"

"Don't you want some too, sweetie?!" Absol's mother continued to joke, in good spirits with her husband, and bringing some much-needed humor in their overall depressing existence. "There's seeds in it from the fruits I found the other day!"

If laughter was considered to be the best medicine, then it was certainly doing its work for the pregnant Absol, as she laughed her way through her laborious labor, affectionately snuggling up to her spouse, and trying not to have another accident or moan effeminately at barbed tongues brushed against her "sweet spot", or as another Absol pup made her feel as though she was being stretched open wider than usual.

* * *

The soldier Lucario of the Lucario Clan that survived their triumphant battle against the Absol combatants of the Absol Clan returned to their den, to inform their citizens of the good news. And as they heard it straight from the mouths of those that experienced the beginning of a historical shift in their lives, they too felt the determination to finally end the Absol Clan, once and for all. They didn't exactly need to hear it from these Lucario's words. Just seeing their returning numbers was enough of a boost in their morale.

They wasted absolutely no time in preparing themselves for the slaughter that was to befall the Absol Clan. They gathered their necessary resources for the trip. They carried with them skinned coats of their fallen Absol victims, for warmth and camouflage. They carried weapons made out of bone, wood, and even solid rock, ideal to conserve their aura until it is needed most.

And in minutes, every single able-bodied Lucario exited their den and trekked over towards the Absol's stronghold, knowing that their numbers were down and that now was the perfect time to strike in order to minimize casualties.

* * *

Back in one of the deepest chambers of the Absol Clan's lair, Absol's father remained by the side of his wife, even when their makeshift "mattress" eventually grew too tired to support their weight and simply replaced themselves with the copious piles of shed white fur that they were wise and instinctive in saving…even if it was getting soiled by the mothers ongoing labor.

Absol's father watched as her wife calmly delivered each new son and daughter with very little stress in her part. It could be because of the Absol midhusbands and midwifes doing their part to "inadvertently" keep her calm as they consistently cleaned her up, or the obvious fact that she has given birth to a litter before, and has learned to endure it better.

Regardless, she was being supported well, as she was already nursing about six Absol pups and lying comfortably on her left side, expecting at least six more pups to eventually find their way out of her cave, perhaps a couple more if her last litter is to be referenced. And with a little physical help from their mother, their escape was bound to happen.

Just as both Absol have gotten comfortable beside each other, their silence was disturbed by high-pitched shrieks echoing across the cavern walls, sounds of panic and violence overwhelming the peace of a husband supporting her pregnant wife in labor.

"Wait! Where are you going!" Absol's mother suddenly found herself shouting to her spouse as she saw him get up and run towards the source of the commotion, instinctively ready for battle and to protect her from whatever was threatening them presently.

Knowing she was currently unable to fight, because her contractions would impede her and because she'd be leaving her pups defenseless, she cautiously remained put and listened closely at her surrounding environment. She remained still, silent, on her back, legs spread apart, holding her pups close with her forepaws and beginning to feel another one line itself up for birth between her hindpaws.

"No! Stop! Please! Don't–!"

 _ **SLASH!**_

"What are you doing h–?!"

 _ **CRASH!**_

"How dare you intrude into our–!"

 _ **BASH!**_

"…" The sounds of individual Absol lives being snuffed out, the sounds of her recognized friends and family being killed off, one by one, filled her with a sense of growing dread. She began to fill a chill course through her spine, a pit forming in her belly that her unborn offspring were falling into, that she _herself_ would follow down if she remained here.

But where would she go? Where would she hide? She only had one way out, and that pathway led to the enemy. And by the sounds of the deaths going on behind her back, they were overwhelmed, which meant that whatever it was that was killing them is either highly skilled or in great numbers.

 **…pat…pat…pat…pat…pat…pat…pat…pat…**

There were no more cries of imminent or occurring death, and if there were, then they were occurring elsewhere in the caverns. All that remained was the sound of slowly approaching footsteps, the ideal sound of an approaching enemy that was simultaneously keeping a watchful eye for any survivors or lingering prey to assassinate.

 **…pat…pat…pat…pat…pat…pat…pat…pat…**

In her mind, as sweat began to roll down the cheeks of her hardened countenance, she contemplated the fate of her first litter, her disgusted son that ran off without warning, and her husband. Did the territorial dispute end tragically for the Absol Clan? Did all of them die or were there some stragglers that survived and managed to escape or flee? How many of them, if _any_ , were her sons and daughters? Did her beloved runt of the litter die as well? What became of him after he fled after hearing her toilet humor? Will he return to see the carnage that has befallen their clan?

 **…pat…pat…pat…pat…pat…pat…**

The footsteps ended as she soon found herself scowling up at a solitary Lucario eyeing her down. As she noticed, this Lucario was monochrome, ideal for blending into the arctic, even without the aid of the Absol hide he wore around his back like a superficial robe. His body, while long and lean like that of any other Lucario, showed signs of strapping muscle and years of experience, judging from the dozens of significant scars scattered about the missing patches of his fur. His arms were behind his back as well, likely as an authoritative sign that he fears nothing and stands above all he comes across.

At the sight of her likely ender, she didn't feel any fear, nor need to protect herself. The fact that this Lucario was here, and that the two of them were looking at each other over an extended period of time without interference meant that the Lucario Clan has successfully committed genocide. All that remained was to kill her off and the pups she was bearing and _will_ bear.

And she knew that. She didn't fear for her life as a result, nor did she treasure it. That quality is impossible for anyone in Snowpoint Mountains to possess.

All she did, without even bothering to close her legs–mostly because she could feel herself crowning–was stare somberly at the Lucario that would no doubt kill her, and give him her final words.

 _Doomed/Okami Original Soundtrack (DISC 3)/Rei Kondoh_

 _(Song Begins)_

"What do you plan on doing?" She said in a tone that didn't exactly display fear or concern for the life of her and her litter, knowing they would all die and shouldn't _dare_ display weakness, especially to the enemy. "Are you going to kill my litter before my eyes? Cut me open and kill my unborn young as I die a slow and painful death? Are you going to rape me after I push out another pup, rape my babies? Are you going to keep me as your sex slave, if for some reason you choose to spare me?"

The dark imagination and the options she told him did give him a brief pause, as he realized something obvious about her, superficial and not through sensing her aura.

" _…You don't fear death, do you?_ " The scarred Lucario uttered flatly through telepathy, as if finding no joy in killing an opponent that welcomes it on a daily basis.

"Not at the paws of a Lucario." Absol's mother admitted plainly, her countenance scowling at her impending murderer.

" _Oh, I see…_ " The scarred Lucario looked to the side and nodded slowly, his red eyes drooping slightly at the apparent realization.

But then, before her eyes, the scarred Lucario's countenance spontaneously turned malicious and better reflected his drive to kill her. He made both of his arms appear from behind his back, and revealed that he was holding onto something substantial, concealing it until this moment, to maximize its impact on her.

And what he held, as Absol's mother eyed it with surprise, was the decapitated head of her spouse, his cringing countenance apparent before his neck was divided with surgical precision.

" _Then how would you feel dying at the_ horn _of one of your own?!_ " The scarred Lucario cackled malevolently as he said this, before donning the bleeding head over his right paw like a glove, and brandishing the Absol's horn like a knife, ready to smite her and her babies with it.

Before she could scream, her throat was severed in one swift motion, causing her to sputter wetly and panic as she saw blood squirting before her face and painting the murderer's monochrome fur crimson. She attempted to roll onto her belly and flee, survival instincts overpowering maternal instincts. But she couldn't waddle a couple of steps before being harshly kicked in the abdomen, forced onto her back. Her paws flailed madly at the target she was beginning to lose her ability to see, but they were swatted aside with minimal effort and pinned to the ground by the enemy's feet and legs, just before he sat on top of her pregnant belly, almost forcing her crowning baby out from the sudden pressure.

The last thing the Absol saw before death was her eyes being stabbed, left one first then right. Her body soon went limp when the loss of blood was too great for her body to handle, allowing the victorious Lucario to stand up and assess his spoils.

And at the sight of the squealing set of infants, as well as the mother Absol's pregnant belly, dark thoughts on what they would _taste_ like echoed in his mind.

Gathering the born babies would prove to be as easy as taking candy from them. And as for the ones that were still inside Absol, squirming helplessly and protruding across her belly as they were reacting out of stress to her sudden death, one simple action would have them see the open world for the first and _only_ time.

He discarded the head of the mother Absol's partner wastefully, by obliterating it with a full-power FORCE PALM. Then, he clasped both paws together, using SWORDS DANCE to form the aural equivalent of a claymore for him to brandish. And once it was ready, he raised the ethereal blade high over his head and aimed for where the mother Absol's belly was most plump.

 _ **SLASH!**_

 _(Song Ends)_

* * *

With the Lucario Clan having successfully ambushed the weakened Absol Clan and killing off every single Absol inside the cavern, all that remained was to carry with them their spoils. The food that the Absol have gathered, the fur that the Absol have shed, the Absol _themselves_ …

As it turned out, it was too much for the entire Lucario Clan to comfortably carry back with them, with most of them requiring two Lucario to carry one Absol, because their body mass was somewhat similar. And that was _just_ to carry the fully-grown dead bodies back, not the pups and younger Absol that were slaughtered, not the heavier pregnant Absol that have yet to be cut open, and not the top half of the mutilated mother that the scarred leader of the Lucario Clan decided to keep as an edible trophy.

Some Absol would unfortunately be left behind to spoil, and therefore didn't warrant a second trip back here. That was minimized by each and every Lucario carrying with them back as much as they could physically tolerate.

However, there was one Lucario that didn't carry with him anything, or even assisted the others in killing Absol. He simply watched, likely hovering over the earth as a passive phantom to the Absol that saw him as their last living soul before death.

This Lucario, just like all of the others, had an arctic coat ideal for the environment. However, his wasn't monochrome. His fur was silver, sky blue, and snow white where it would be black, blue, and yellow on a normal Lucario. Also, the bony protrusions over his chest and the back of his wrists were gold instead of a bony white.

" _This…this is wrong…_ " The light-furred Lucario spoke out as the only voice of reason after the killing spree he just had the displeasure of witnessing. " _Don't any of you…feel the same way?_ "

Most of the Lucario that were passing by him, with an Absol in their possession, heard his words and simply disregarded them, or believed them to be the words of a juvenile that wasn't quite ready to witness the necessities of survival in Snowpoint Mountains. Others just found his words hilarious or utterly stupid, and either laughed at him or scorned him. Few actually responded with their personal opinions, and they were all unified.

" _This land is cruel._ "

" _It's kill or_ be _killed._ "

" _There's no other way._ "

" _And if you don't like it, then leave._ "

" _You were never one of us anyway._ "

To the light-furred Lucario, the words didn't hurt in the slightest. To him, they felt like keys, unlocking an alternate path for him. And that path was to leave Snowpoint Mountains and find a better life.

Which is why, when the Lucario Clan saw him sprint out of the Absol Clan's den as if he had freed himself from slavery, no one really batted an eye. They saw him as an outsider and never really as one of their own, ever since he found their way to them as a Riolu, further south at Lake Acuity.

Besides, with the spoils that the Lucario Clan gathered, one Lucario leaving meant one less mouth to feed, and slightly more shares for everyone else.

It wasn't long after his departure that every other Lucario exited the Absol den, content with their haul and the fact that they no longer needed to shed more blood and throw away more souls at the Absol Clan, now that they were exterminated.

* * *

Half a mile away from the Absol's den, Absol was retching repeatedly. Despite the pitiful excuse of a meal he had yesterday having already left his stomach, he vomited as though he still had eaten something. He certainly expelled just as much volume as he took in, even a little more.

"(I eat so little…)" Absol thought, feeling himself trembling more than usual from his presently nauseating feeling. "(And yet…I can vomit so much.)"

Another patch of snow turned a sickly green from the bile he now found himself forcibly expelling.

"(How is that…even possible?!)" Absol eventually stopped once he regained his bearings.

Initially, Absol contemplated returning back to his den, back to his clan. However, with how disgusted he was at seeing his pregnant mother, and even more so when she and his father joked about things that shouldn't be joked about, he felt like he should remain outside for a bit longer. And fortunately for him, the weather outside was rather tranquil, in stark contrast to the howling blizzards that force most Pokémon to take shelter for half the year.

In the mood to explore and find food, or simply do whatever to prolong his time away from his own family, Absol ventured onward. He explored the area, the snow below in particular, digging through it when he smelled something edible. A couple of plants, a few small Berries. Helpful sustenance that would maintain him in the long run, but not provide him with the necessary fat and muscle to properly survive here.

For that, he ventured further, as far as he was willing to follow his snout, and a sense of smell heightened over millions of years of necessary evolution to a mountainous environment.

His trek carried him another mile out, to the area where the territorial dispute between the Absol and Lucario Clans were taking place. He could tell this was the area, because by his knowledge, there were no other mass battles occurring anywhere else in Snowpoint Mountains. And outside of the snow that was beginning to drizzle down here, Absol could smell something else, trace amounts of iron, the likes of which don't originate from the rock of the mountains.

"(…Whose blood am I smelling?)" Absol contemplated as he sniffed about the ground like a tracking Houndour. "(If it's overpoweringly metallic, then it's the blood of a Lucario.)"

As Absol began to form a narrow circle after isolating the scent, he continued contemplating the owner of the blood.

"(But this scent…this _familiar_ scent…)"

With a bit more urgency, Absol circled about his small area until he eventually pinpointed the location of the blood he was detecting. And with greater haste in his part, he used DIG to sift through about three feet of snow, stopping dead when he saw what was _dead_ directly underneath his paws.

"(B-brother…?)"

Almost like the frozen, lifeless body of his brother, Absol himself appeared to succumb to rigor mortis at the sight of what befell a member of his family, of a Pokémon that he grew up with. The fact that his brothers eyes were still staring at him made Absol believe that he was still alive. In fact, as Absol temporarily–but not _entirely_ –cast aside his growing feelings of sadness, he realized something odd about the blood hemorrhaging from his dead brother's face.

"(No scratches…no external injury…)" Absol continued digging until he was able to unearth his brother, trying his hardest not to cry when he bit down on his brother's leg, feeling no pulse from it. Only cold wet fur, encased in the biological equivalent of ice. "(Only internal injury…but all across the body?)"

As Absol examined the broken body of his fallen brother, his paws felt areas where it was softer or more pronounced, where bruises resided and bones were broken. He knew that the closest attack a Lucario possesses that could inflict this kind of damage was FORCE PALM, but there were no burns that came from using that attack at pointblank range. The damage came elsewhere, and it _wasn't_ from a Lucario.

It came, as Absol soon noticed from the changed landscape, from an avalanche.

"(What _happened_ here…?)" Absol noticed the abrupt ascending slope of new snow, trees that were buried up to their trunks, and a complete absence of superficial blood on the snow, even though it wasn't snowing at all here. But, just like with his brother, he can smell traces of blood elsewhere, across multiple areas, far too many for Absol to DIG on simply because he couldn't tolerate seeing more of his friends and family sharing the same fate, as they most likely have.

Because of that, Absol fled the snow battlefield that has now become a snow graveyard, his imagination doing greater damage to his emotional state than actually seeing the results he strongly believed befell his brethren. In fact, he was so far plunged into his daymare that he paid zero attention to his surroundings as he fled the scene. And sure enough, he found himself abruptly bouncing back when he collided into something.

But it wasn't a tree. It was another Lucario, the light-furred one that departed from the same named clan that he never truly belonged in to begin with.

Absol was unaware of the fact that he missed being impaled by the light-furred Lucario's chest spike by mere inches. But that was the least of his concerns, as Absol felt as though he ran head first into a rock wall, and the Lucario felt as though he was punched in the gut by Absol's head, also avoiding impalement by his horn.

Both Pokémon rebounded from each other and fell on their backs, groaning and rubbing their head and belly in pain. Absol was the first to react to the fact that a member of the enemy clan stood before him in the snow, by springing back onto his feet and standing ready for the Lucario's next move. However, when the light-furred Lucario noticed this Absol a couple of seconds later, hostility wasn't mutual.

" _Don't bother._ " He spoke telepathically, getting back upright and brushing the snow off of his fur. " _I won't fight you._ "

Absol just saw that as a golden opportunity. "Well, that works just fine for me because I _will_ fight you!"

With lightning speed, Absol swung his head and horn at the Lucario a few times, firing off a few RAZOR WIND attacks at his target. However, the light-furred Aura Pokémon nimbly leapt over each blade of wind, allowing them to crash and plume against the snow.

" _No, I'm serious. I won't fight you._ " He repeated himself to the Disaster Pokémon. " _I'm sick of it. Sick of this place. Sick of seeing two clans endlessly fighting for dwindling scraps, unable to learn to share or cooperate with one another._ "

"Then perhaps it's about time one clan _disappears_ from these mountains." Absol threatened.

The Lucario simply looked away and towards the snow, sighing regretfully, much to Absol's attention. " _That already happened. And all I could do was watch, powerless to stop it, because I never truly belonged to the Lucario Clan to begin with._ "

"…" A harsher chill crept across Absol's spine, the likes of which dwarfed seeing one of his brothers become an ice mummy, or if he actually took the time and the luxury to dig out every other Absol he knew fought against the Lucario Clan.

" _If I were you, I'd leave this Hell on Earth as well._ " The arctic Lucario turned his back on a petrified, pallid Absol and began to disappear against the incoming snowstorm. " _What they did to your people… Well, you're better off moving on._ "

Absol remained frozen in time, the words of this forsaken Lucario rattling him to the core, in ways that the recent blizzard blowing against his fur paled in comparison. The dead Absol in the battlefield, the lack of any obvious survivors, the avalanche that most likely killed them, the spike in morale the Lucario Clan likely felt when they witnessed the environment itself do the fighting for them, the final option the Lucario Clan implemented to eradicate the Absol Clan, and the lonesome wanderer Lucario that couldn't tolerate the actions of the clan he took shelter in, to the point where he disbanded most likely by his own accord and feel like vaguely telling what happened to what he believes is the last surviving member of the fallen clan.

When these thoughts eventually hit Absol that his den was compromised, he rushed recklessly back home, hoping for the best, praying to Arceus for the best, believing that the Lucario was just trying to scare him with exaggerated lies.

But the tears beginning to stream down and freeze on his face stated otherwise.

* * *

 _Scene of a Disaster/Naruto Shippuden Original Soundtrack/Toshiro Masuda_

 _(Song Begins)_

In the middle of the blizzard, Absol only managed to find his way home because of the traces of his species' blood that wafted in the wind. In following that trail, he came across the entrance to his clan's den. He paused uncomfortably by its entrance, all of the initial signs removing the falsified doubts he's been implementing into himself after hearing that _accursed_ Lucario's words.

Upon entering the cavern, the only sounds of an alternate presence were his own, his silent sobbing echoing across the walls. The smell of blood was profound, borderline nauseating. The signs of carnage and invasion were littered about the walls, the floors, and even the ceiling. Absol slowly walked over puddles of frozen blood, dense enough that his own paws were reddening and leaving bloody footprints of their own. Massive indentations and three-pronged lacerations were evident across the area, strong evidence that Lucario were here and favored using AURA SPHERE and METAL CLAW to kill his friends and family.

But…where's the Absol Clan? Did the Lucario Clan take them for food and resources after killing them? The trails of linear, overlapping blood all leading outside the cavern strongly suggested that sensible assumption, alongside the scattered strands of white and red fur.

Slowly, Absol shuddered his way through the befouled, cold cave, witnessing sights more rancid than the last. What traces of the Absol Clan remained outside of fur and blood now became apparent to the traumatized Disaster Pokémon.

Pieces of lacerated hide too small to be of value to the enemy littered the floor as sullied islands of refrigerated flesh surrounded by oceans of dark grey rock. The occasional internal organ was also littered on the ground. An eyeball here. A piece of brain there. A sliver of intestines even hung on the ceiling, deliberately tied there and severed a few feet further down, perhaps used as a makeshift strangulation device.

As Absol headed down the cavern to where his parents were _once_ busy bringing new life into the world, he honestly hoped he didn't see any lingering traces of them outside of the blood that inevitably splattered the floors. For once, he hoped that the Lucario Clan carried every single portion of his family with them, children and all. Seeing no trace of them instead of _traces_ of them would be a better fate for his broken glass psyche.

Instead, he was forced to step all over it when he found himself thoughtlessly and tearfully running towards her mother.

Both halves of her.

With tears rolling down frozen cheeks, Absol embraced the top half of her mother, holding her close in his arms and unable to have the same response from her. He sincerely wished that the last thing he said to her was that he loved her, and secretly wished that her last words weren't about eating seeds from her poop. He disregarded the feeling of her cold, clammy, hanging internal organs latching onto his fur, trickles of her blood staining the white luster of the fur of his underbelly. He contemplated bringing up her bottom half alongside the top half, to embrace it all the same.

Instead, he found himself losing all feeling from his body, causing the top half of his mother to fall face down onto the floor, over a puddle of blood she already shed when she was divided in two.

What Absol noticed from the lower half of his mother was that her uterus was visible. Or at least, a small portion of what remained of it. Her exposed womb was entirely empty, devoid of life, life that the Lucario Clan likely took with them as a bite-sized snack.

All except one, which Absol noticed only had the top of its head exposed from his mother's vulva.

Hesitantly, Absol approached the lower half of his mother, realigning her upright so that she can deliver her final baby after death. Absol retched as he found himself forced to insert one of his paws into her womb, emulating one final contraction with the downward, squelching push of his paw.

The final baby simply slid out of a rigidly frozen birth canal, stagnantly falling headfirst onto the earth and making the same sound that a cube of ice would make upon hitting the ground. And after Absol set her mother's bloody lower body aside, meticulously joining it to the upper half just so that he wouldn't be tortured further from viewing her internal organs anymore, he picked up the frozen pup with his reddened paws, staring down at it with equally reddened cheeks, seeing his tears land on the stillborn's frozen fur before freezing themselves.

For the first time in his life, Absol pondered the life-altering change that would've come from his mother's second litter. He would no longer contemplate his position as a runt of a litter. He would cherish being the _big_ brother for once, to a sub-generation of Absol that would've looked up to his existing brothers and sisters and to _him_ for guidance. But instead, he finds himself holding the frozen carcass of what could've been his sister.

Absol stopped crying when he feels them sting to the point of shedding blood. And without moving his head away, he watches as his tears stain the pup red. The sight angers him, enflames his core, as his mind perceives this as an allegory for the Lucario Clan's actions against his friends and family.

They snuffed out all Absol life, even those that weren't yet born.

The frozen pup begins to thaw and exude steam as Absol's paws begin to catch fire, then catches fire and burns to ash as Absol's entire body is surrounded in hellfire. Within the self-made inferno, Absol's rage spikes, his mind is cast aside for primal instincts and vengeance. His eyes shine red as his inner fire seeps through them, and his lips curl up, exposing clenched teeth that appear painted in blood.

With a pained shout to the skies that the cavern ceiling intercepted, Absol screamed towards the heavens, before his body unleashed a crackling combustion that burst out in all directions, incinerating his mother's corpse in seconds and spiking the temperature within the cavern to that of a volcano.

Inside the cavern, all traces of water are evaporated away, and all rock becomes shrouded by hellfire. _Outside_ the cavern, the mouth of the entrance is aglow with the red-hot vengeful souls of almost a hundred lives that now rest their hopes on their last surviving member made berserker.

 _(Song Ends)_

* * *

Back in the Lucario Clan's den, all of the "victors" were enjoying their Absol spoils. They maximized the use of the bodies they hauled back with them, and sorted out the other food they essentially stole from their cold, dead bodies.

Some of the Lucario were entrusted with peeling off the furred hides from the Absol, trying their hardest to clean off of the blood after stretching it, especially with the smallest of stained hides from the Absol pups. Those that handled the stripped bodies divided it amongst themselves to cut them open and organized their internal organs in order of palatability, and then making the least edible segments (such as the colon) at least partially bearable.

And all throughout their makeshift butchery, joyous conversations regarding how the Absol Clan pales in comparison to them echoed about their cavern walls. They despised their persistence, marveled at their domination over them, took great enjoyment in obliterating them, and now licked their lips at how well they'll be eating for the next month.

What they _didn't_ talk about was the one outsider Lucario choosing to leave this life behind, simply because they didn't really care much about him and saw his absence as one less mouth to feed. Neither did they express guilt over their actions, because they saw themselves as apex predators that, through a unified effort, took down an entire herd within minutes.

Which is why _none_ of them anticipated or sensed the entrance to their cave to open the floodgates of a world of unrelenting fire.

 _Burned Down/Naruto Shippūden: Inheritors of the Will of Fire Original Soundtrack/Yasuharu Takanashi_

 _(Song Begins)_

Before any of them could sense the spike in searing heat, the Lucario that were guarding the entrance were baptized in fire, rolling in it, crying out within its crackling embers, before collapsing after losing all of their fur. The remaining mass of Lucario halted their actions after seeing the cavern entrance form lethal rings of fire, beginning to think creeping thoughts that they were all about to be punished for their executed sins, and that the cavern exit now opened the gates to their impending Hell.

Instead, what they saw emerge from the fires, and _intentionally_ step over the charred Lucario bodies, was an Absol with blazing red fur instead of a normal snow white coat, and a wicked countenance that had desires of death etched all over it.

It didn't take the Lucario Clan long to realize that their deliberate attempts at genocide were in vain until this apparently last Absol was put down, just like the rest of his clan. They had already stopped their current actions and focused themselves on felling this last upstart. They all fired off one AURA SPHERE at the same time, dozens of them quickly homing in on a single target.

Absol however, was far from docile and stagnant at a sight that would normally make a lesser Dark-Type Pokémon soil themselves, but he also didn't see the need to move. All he did was cry out to the ceiling once more, summoning one blue-white WILL-O-WISP for _each_ AURA SPHERE. And as the Lucario swore they noticed before both attacks canceled each other out in a plume of smoke, Absol's WILL-O-WISP appeared to shape themselves into the heads of an Absol.

All of the Lucario covered their mouths with one arm and activated their Aura Vision abilities to peer through the smoke. What they saw wasn't Absol's aura, or the intense aura that emanated from his pyrokinesis. What they saw instead was the telltale shapes of multiple beings that were shaped like an Absol, the spirits of fallen Pokémon hovering closely beside their sole surviving avenger.

And whether or not Absol acknowledged their presence, or if the Lucario were simply seeing things that their guilty minds began to fantasize, one Absol did indeed become many, through the use of DOUBLE TEAM. And all of them, just like the first, were cloaked in fire, ready to set the Lucario Clan ablaze and punish them for their sins.

Absol's artificial numbers soon matched those of the Lucario he locked eyes on, and his combusting replications were let loose on every single Lucario within reach. Absol calmly, but spitefully walked across the cavern, almost like an honored guest that inwardly despised pointless festivities. He felt no fires or heat because they were his own, and simply watched as each and every Lucario felt his fire as his clones used FLAMETHROWER and FIRE BLAST respectively.

With the Lucario and the pilfered goods they took with them burning away within seconds, as each and every soul panicked before perishing at how suddenly the heat overpowered the cold, they were no longer a threat to the Disaster Pokémon. However, Absol was far from done, as he had yet to cover every single corner of the Lucario Clan's home den.

As well as meet its leader.

* * *

Similarly to the late Absol Clan's den, this cavern stretched onwards and branched off to multiple paths that could potentially discombobulate a neophyte's sense of navigation. However, because of Absol's DOUBLE TEAM, he covered more ground in less time, and incinerated more Lucario with them only briefly being able to put up a fight before the hellfire punished them.

As his clones behaved with their own conscience, as if the Absol souls that lingered beside Absol inhabited these temporary vessels, they went down branching paths, the screams of their victims masked by their roasting bodies. The Disaster Pokémon casually strolled through the main path, the cavern walls glowing red from his exuding heat, steaming before smoking.

When Absol eventually found himself in the middle of an empty room that only had its entrance as its exit, his blazing aura did not decrease or diminish. Absol still looked about his environment for any signs of Lucario, certain that there were still a few remaining.

And as it turns out, Absol was right in his assumption. Because a minute after he began to slowly pace about the floor, stalking prey that he's certain are still hiding from him, the leader of the Lucario–the very same _scarred_ Lucario that cut Absol's mother in half like a magic trick gone horribly wrong–began to stalk _him_ from the ceiling. He clung upturned onto the ceiling with his aura in much the same way a Spinarak does with its legs, head craned up (down) to nefariously track the Absol and mimic his every move.

Then, the moment came where the scarred Lucario pounced straight down onto Absol, the tip of his SWORDS DANCE aimed for the back of his heart.

 _ **CRASH!**_

The tip of the blade digs itself almost a foot into the floor, with an Absol in the middle. But before the scarred Lucario could relish in his ambush kill, his target disappeared in a puff of smoke, hellfire and all.

"(…A SUBSTITUTE?!)" He thought with alarm, shortly before being met with the same attack across his body via the real Absol's ME FIRST.

One horizontal slash sent the scarred Lucario into a wall, with a fresh and shallow new wound across his left arm. He leaned against the wall for a moment, amazed by Absol's strength but even more so by the surrounding fire emanating from his body.

" _How did you survive the genocide of your clan?_ " He said, only caring about that information before deciding to kill the Absol.

"I could say the same thing about you," Absol turned the tables, knowing he was just as much a mass murderer as the scarred Lucario. But in his case, it came from karma and vengeance instead of cold blood.

The scarred Lucario's response to this, strangely enough, was with a scoffing smile.

" _So you came back here to my domain, to slaughter me after slaughtering my comrades, after they murdered those that you love?_ "

Absol's flaming aura crackled suddenly, out of his anger for the sneering tone of voice the scarred Lucario _dared_ to speak in.

" _Do you think I care?_ " He continued. " _Do you think it matters to me what befalls my clan?_ "

"It's obvious to me that you don't, with the way you're speaking to me about it." Absol noted.

" _And what about_ you _?_ " The scarred Lucario targeted Absol with his question. " _Do you care about your clan?_ "

"Does _this_ answer your question?!"

At the same time Absol said that, a five-pronged FIRE BLAST escaped Absol's aura and flew straight towards the scarred Lucario. The enemy used PROTECT to prevent all forms of damage and status affliction from the searing flames, and then discarded his bulwark once the flames died down. And then, just as quickly as Absol attacked, he returned fire with a barrage of AURA SPHEREs, the likes of which Absol used DETECT to nimbly evade them, hearing the missed attacks detonate across the cavern walls, punching holes into them and reverberating the entire mountain around them.

 _(Song Ends)_

" _…I see._ " The scarred Lucario muttered. " _You still harbor strong feelings of attachment to those you once loved._ "

Absol breathed heavily, not out of fatigue but from the raw emotions he was presently feeling for the last remaining murderer of the Absol Clan. And for all that he knew, this was the Pokémon that was responsible for killing his mother. He didn't bother asking because he already committed this Lucario as the perpetrator, using that as a source of motivation, fuel for the fire his heavy breathing was fanning.

" _That's a shame for you because it makes you weak._ "

"How so? I don't _feel_ weak." Absol counter-argued instantly. "Just ask your Lucario friends when you meet them in the next life!"

This time, Absol's used his mouth for his next attack and breathed a vicious FLAMETHROWER towards the enemy. But the scarred Lucario expected this and retaliated by grinding the two spikes on the back of his wrists against his chest spike, using METAL SOUND to create a screeching sound wave that not only disrupted the fires to extinguishing themselves, but caused Absol to cringe in pain.

" _You focus on others instead of yourself. That makes_ you _weak._ " He stated as simply as it sounded in context. " _I focused on myself. That makes_ me _strong._ "

"But there's strength in numbers!" Absol countered his claims once again.

" _Then where are your numbers?!_ " The scarred Lucario responded sharply and rhetorically. " _Oh, that's right! They're all dead! They're all cleaved, peeled, swallowed, digested, excreted, and_ incinerated _! The last part is thanks to you!_ "

The "you" at the end of that sentence managed to rattle Absol to the core, even blowing out his flaming aura like a lit candle in a hurricane. He didn't think about what became of the bodies of the Absol after they were dead and carried away back _here_ until it was too late, until he had already killed the Lucario and burned up _everything_ they harvested.

In seeing Absol's vulnerability, the scarred Lucario made one more sword of pure aura with his SWORDS DANCE technique, and readied himself to swing it once and _only_ once with the intent of having Absol's discombobulated head roll on the ground.

" _Farewell, last Absol._ " The scarred Lucario nearly whispered those last words before sprinting straight towards a withdrawn Absol, slightly wishing that he would at least see the glimmer of his glowing blade before losing his ability to breathe before certain death.

The Lucario with the sword came towards Absol with murderous intent, and he swung his sword towards Absol's neck. But Absol's head never rolled onto the ground. His neck didn't separate with surgical precision. Instead, as Absol eventually recovered from his momentarily brief PTSD, he witnessed a sight that he swore only comes from swallowing copious amounts of fermented berries.

He saw the scarred Lucario entirely restrained by the spirits of his entire family.

 _River of Tears/Dreams & Imaginations (Disc 3 - Tragic & Sad)/Two Steps From Hell_

 _(Song Begins)_

All of his brothers and sisters, both adolescent _and_ newborn, as well as his mother and father, both _segments_ of them, were clumped together around the scarred Lucario and his solidified aura sword. And much to his horror, they were all strong enough to keep him entirely immobilized.

"…Mother? Father?" Absol muttered in silent surprise. "Brothers? Sisters?"

"…Hello, son." The head of the spirit of Absol's father hovered over the Disaster Pokémon, while his headless body coiled around the enemy's neck.

"It's good to see you again…" Absol's mother spoke hoarsely and hollowly. Not surprising since her diaphragm was cleaved when she was split in half, and her throat was slit before that.

"Even if it is for the last time…"

"…So many things left unsaid."

"So much to do…"

"So little time…"

"Only enough to say we're sorry…"

"And to wish you find purpose in your life…"

"…" Absol war far from prepared for this and could only watch in silence and suspended belief, barely registering their words during this surreal moment.

" _…Why…can't…I…move…?!_ " The scarred Lucario struggled in vain to break free, unable to comprehend how gaseous spirits could paralyze him without so much as discharging even a single THUNDER WAVE.

"Now…it's time for you to go." The disembodied head of Absol hovered away from his son and remained over the enemy's head, over his deceased family.

"You don't have a choice in the matter, I'm afraid…" Absol's mother added somberly.

"Because, when we use the Absol Clan's Forbidden Technique…"

"Everyone who succumbs to it perishes instantly."

A few seconds of further silence went by for Absol before he eventually came to terms with it. When he did, the only form of goodbye he offered was a tearful nod, before about-facing and racing out of the cavern in a literal blaze of glory. And as he did, he never looked back. He didn't need to in order to know what his family would do to that mass murderer.

He could simply imagine it.

 _(Song Ends)_

He ran against the blizzards, across mountaintops, cutting through the cold like lightning through the air. And as he ran for days on end, he only thought about the Absol Clan's Forbidden Technique, which is just a fancy way of their people to say that they know how to use PERISH SONG. Those that listen to that doleful requiem, in its entirety and in its _originality_ , find themselves overcome with death. In the case that most certainly befell the scarred Lucario, he heard PERISH SONG in full and fell to the floor with a dead heart, stopped by the haunting frequency of the incantation, which resonates beyond the outer body and directly into the core.

Absol's family can rest in peace, knowing that the Lucario Clan is no more thanks to their surviving son, and that the Absol Clan in itself has been avenged, thanks to an awakening of power Absol never knew he possessed. But as Absol eventually stopped running when he finally saw vast expanses of green valleys and lush forests across the horizon, instead of merely more mountains and snow to torment him, he _himself_ was not at peace.

Far from it in fact.

The Lucario Clan, their actions to the Absol Clan, had permanently altered his destiny and his viewpoint of the Lucario and Riolu race as a whole. He saw them as impossible Pokémon to work alongside, to befriend and negotiate with. He only saw them now as monsters, put on this world against Arceus' will to torment those that they saw fit.

And as Absol stared coldly at the horizon, at the new wildlife living in harmony within its respective environment, he contemplated that the best means to exterminate monsters is with fire.

Dark fire.

Hellfire.

Only then will Absol feel comfortable in letting his family, his clan, and himself rest in peace.

* * *

"If everybody can leave, then I'll leave, (…). But I'll be the one who turns off all the lights and locks the door." —Orson Scott Card (262) (" _Xenocide_ ")


	4. Diverging Chapter 4

**Diverging Chapter 4: Aggron's Mental Disabilities**

Location: Team Rocket Main Headquarters

Date: July 2010

Time: ?

Through the black market and shady deals between Team Rocket and a few Pokémon Breeders that secretly work for them, a massive shipment of Pokémon eggs are brought to Team Rocket's HQ building. The eggs are carried via air mail, and dropped off from the skies by the hundreds within massive crates. As these crates fall from the sky like wooden Swanna bearing newborns, their parachutes deploy, gently bringing these eggs down to the hell on earth they would soon hatch into.

Team Rocket Grunts and their respective Pokémon were already on standby for receiving these eggs. They cast out numerous Flying-Type Pokémon to manipulate the winds in guiding the crates to fall by their landing site. They used Fighting-Type Pokémon to break apart the wooden structure of these crates with ease and speed. They used Psychic-Type Pokémon to efficiently and safely pass on the dozens of eggs nestled within to man and Pokémon alike. And as they were carried inside to makeshift nurseries, the warmth of Fire-Type Pokémon were responsible for their eventual hatching.

Before the disreputable Pokémon Breeders transported these eggs to Team Rocket, all of them were nearing the final stages of their development before hatching. That became evident to the Grunts in charge of their overall care when the eggs began to hatch the following day.

The breeders responsible for these Pokémon eggs were paid handsomely for their efforts, because of the selection of rare and powerful Pokémon they already had that were ideal for giving birth for most of their lives, the moves they knew, the hidden abilities they have a high likelihood in possessing, and even the alternate colors that a select few of them may display upon hatching.

Pokémon that met all of those criteria were considered prized and mostly sold for the Pokémon's same weight in gold or _bills_. Few were retained and were given as prizes to members of Team Rocket that excelled in their work and dedication to the crime syndicate.

Pokémon that met some of those criteria were almost always used by Team Rocket's personnel. And depending on their obedience and strength, they lived relatively decent lives. Some of these Pokémon were even used by Team Rocket themselves for breeding as well as for confrontations. Pokémon such as these were sought after by Team Rocket operatives, to the point where they would actively dispute or fight amongst themselves over who gets to use said Pokémon. One good example of this is a Garchomp that they've had in their possession for almost twenty years, given the nickname of "Terra" for his foundation and not just his Ground-Type attribute.

Pokémon that met almost none of those criteria usually shared one common fate: death. Pokémon that were due for termination were treated almost like a spectacle for Team Rocket, just from the diversity of ways they can put an end to Pokémon that they feel are broken, defiant, feeble, hostile, old, or useless. Pokémon such as these were killed in an almost endless assortment of possibilities by the humans that saw them as tools and money machines. They were beaten to death by stronger Pokémon, fed whole and alive to larger Pokémon, cremated, tortured, disemboweled, shredded, and abandoned. Pokémon such as these die about 99.9% of the time.

Among the Pokémon eggs that hatched were a range of naïve Pokémon as broad as the spectrum of colors, in terms of their appearance and Type Attributes. Pokémon that shortly hatch are already categorized by Team Rocket personnel and transported to shared biomes that loosely suit their basic needs. An example of this would be a biome that emulates the heat and environment of a volcano, perfect for Fire-Type Pokémon such as Charmander.

For the case of one of these lucky Pokémon, he was transported into a lush forest biome.

This Pokémon was an Aron.

* * *

Within this biome, the only sounds that Aron heard that never rested were the constant chirping of Flying-Type Bird Pokémon and the low humming of fluorescent lights dozens of feet overhead.

For the first month of Aron's life, life in this forest biome was the most peaceful and emotional time of his life. Aron spent his time on the ground, only using the trees for comfort by sleeping on their roots during the "night" of this manmade ecosystem. But during the day, Aron only had one interest, one hobby, that brought absolute joy to his childhood.

Gardening.

"Hello, little flowers! How are you doing today!" Aron would almost sing his words as he spoke to the shocking abundance of flora, treating them as if they were actually alive. "Oh, what's that? You're thirsty? Don't worry! I'll just stop by the river and bring you a mouthful of water!

"You don't like being in this spot? Don't worry! I'll just gently uproot you and put you where you feel like!

"Your leaves are turning yellow? Don't worry! I'll just give you some more water!

"You're growing happily? Yay! So am I! We're growing healthy together!

"You want more dirt? I'll dig some more and bring it just for you!

"You want _better_ dirt? Well, you'll probably have to wait until night, when I need to poop before going to sleep."

The other Pokémon that shared this forest biome with Aron frequently watched as the little Iron Armor Pokémon always appeared full of energy and skipping about the place, constantly improving its foliage in ways that only he appeared to know how to do. For a while, they thought Aron to be obnoxious and even attempted to harm or torment him. But they couldn't because Aron was not just unrelentingly cheerful, but built like a tank. Any plant that was desecrated or eaten was met with a simple farewell in his part, as he believed they were now part of something bigger. Any Pokémon that attempted to harm Aron only harmed themselves, by breaking a nail or a tooth or even a wing or a limb, all while Aron showed definitive concern for them and attempted to mend their injuries. In the end, they simply couldn't harm Aron emotionally or physically, because Aron had nothing that they could latch onto and hammer away at.

But Team Rocket on the other hand, had many more ways and just as many resources to reconfigure a Pokémon that they were monitoring and believing to be _disgustingly_ friendly.

During one dark day, as Aron was merrily tending to the plants, he noticed that one by one, the Pokémon on the trees were dropping like flies. Unable to discern why they appeared to "die", Aron soon collapsed as well upon smelling a knockout gas that was released into the biome without any color or smell to it.

* * *

It was unclear how much time passed before Aron regained consciousness. But when he did return to his senses by opening his eyes and standing back upright, he was immediately greeted by a dangerous sight that made him instinctively roll to the right.

That sight was a Team Rocket Grunt's Swampert, as it used MUD BOMB from fifty feet away.

"It's time to see if you're worthwhile to Team Rocket, little Aron!" The Grunt shouted, as his Swampert fed off of his determination and clasped its forearms together in a display of intimidation. "If you're not, the only way you'll be growing flowers is as compost!"

Without really giving an order to a Pokémon that was fighting for testing purposes, Swampert raised one of its arms high over its head, before slamming it back down to earth, unleashing an EARTHQUAKE.

Basic instincts ingrained into Aron's mind during its conception took over. At the sight of the incoming wave of outwardly rolling earth from the dirt battlefield they were standing on, Aron's inner static electricity flared across its iron-like body, granting it the ability to float over Swampert's EARTHQUAKE via MAGNET RISE, and even hover about with it.

Naturally, this caught both the Grunt and Swampert by surprise, long enough for Aron to suddenly dart in mid-air towards Swampert and strike its belly with an IRON HEAD attack. And before Swampert could swat the metal pest aside with a WATER PULSE attack, Aron defended with PROTECT and counterattacked with a DOUBLE-EDGE directly into Swampert's forehead.

Despite their telltale differences in size, the fact that Aron was so much _denser_ than the Mud Fish Pokémon and would outweigh it if they were the same size meant that Swampert staggered back in excruciating pain, much to the astonishment of the Grunt watching on at this.

This gave Aron all of the time in the world to climb high into the air with its MAGNET RISE still in effect, until it was about twenty feet overhead of the stunned Swampert. And before the Mud Fish Pokémon could see where the little Iron Armor Pokémon had gone within an environment where the only place to hide is underground, Aron had disengaged MAGNET RISE and began to fall back down towards Swampert head first. Swampered looked up too late, and at the worst possible time. Because shortly after doing so, Aron's HEAD SMASH connected directly into Swampert's snout, knocking it out cold.

The Team Rocket Grunt was understandably surprised at how one-sided the battle was, and not in the way he had originally intended. His Swampert, selected as the first Pokémon to test this little Aron, possessed Water-Type moves, Ground-Type moves, and even a couple of Fighting-Type moves, all of which would give Aron a bad time. Added to the fact that Swampert's dual Ground-Type and Water-Type attributes halve the damage of Aron's Rock-Type and Steel-Type attack, and it would initially appear as if Swampert would, quite literally, _swamp_ Aron in a torrent of powerful attacks.

…Instead, Aron has not only displayed his strengths and unusual techniques that he can only learn from breeding, but his tactics in combat. To summarize, Aron _never_ attacked first. Instead, he merely defended or evaded against Swampert's attacks before he counter-attacked.

To the Team Rocket Grunt, this highlighted Aron's acumen for a battle that he can control in his favor, just through his high defense and resilience alone. But at the same time, this _damned_ Aron in the eyes of Team Rocket. Because, in the eyes of the organization, Aron was far too nice to strike first.

As the Team Rocket Grunt noticed Aron suddenly tending to Swampert by licking its nose clean of blood, just as the Swampert regains consciousness and returns the affection by (somewhat struggling in) holding Aron up to its face like a human would to a cuddly puppy, a dark thought enters the operative's mind.

"(Innocence cannot flower in Team Rocket.)" He thought with scorn for Aron's gentle nature, both in and out of battle. "(It has to be stamped out.)"

* * *

 _Innocence of Youth/Brand X Music Catalogue - Vol.12/Brand X Music_

 _(Song Begins)_

After a victory that Aron doesn't really consider he claimed from the Swampert he clashed with, he was ushered back into his forest biome, already cleared of the colorless and odorless gas that knocked him out earlier in the…day? Night? Time was almost impossible to tell with the environment being synthetic, and the overhead lights turning off without warning.

Aron almost immediately set aside his fight against the Swampert and returned to blissful, beautiful gardening. He was already hard at work shoveling the dirt with his broad face via BULLDOZE, and then shallowly using DIG with his stubby legs to create inch-deep holes across the established plot before depositing the seeds from flowers he…ate the day before. Coupled with a few more seeds that he found lying around, and every single hole he dug was meticulously refilled upon being seeded. Then, he watered them individually and evenly by repeatedly going over towards the nearby pond, scooping a mouthful of water with his mouth, spraying it like a sprinkler through his teeth, and making sure every square inch of the plot was evenly soaked.

Afterwards, all Aron had to do was wait for the plants to grow. It could take days, it could take weeks, maybe even a couple of months, depending on the plants. Aron didn't mind the wait though, as long as he had plants to converse with.

And in Aron's case, there was one flower he had already treated like a close friend. It was the first flower he had ever laid his eyes one, one that he treasures and has treated with utmost care. The flower was green in its stem, white in its stamen, and golden in its petals. He has named this particular flower… _Flowey_ the Flower. And it was his imaginary friend, one that he speaks to on a philosophical level.

"Boy, you really ARE an idiot!" The first words Aron hears of the flower voice in his head is a scolding. "Don't you see what Team Rocket is DOING to you? They want you to become a KILLER! Because, for the Pokémon in Team Rocket, it's KILL or BE KILLED!"

Aron never displayed anger, not even against a vivid figment of his imagination. He wasn't going to start now either, because Flowey was speaking the truth. The Iron Armor Pokémon is down to earth, positive, loving, and not an idiot. He knows manipulation when he senses it, perhaps through the same heavily refined instincts that allowed him to beat a Pokémon that, in theory, should've mopped the floor with him.

Which is why his answer startled his imaginary friend.

"Then I won't kill." Aron said simply. "I'm not a killer. I never will be. I'll just fight to protect myself. And if I ever make any friends, then I'll protect them too."

Aron's imagination, for a Pokémon that wasn't quite a month old yet and had very little outside stimulus and knowledge, was remarkably vivid on the golden flower he named Flowey. To the onlooking Grass-Type, Flying-Type, and Bug-Type Pokémon that saw Aron speaking to this golden flower, alongside Team Rocket that were doing so via hidden surveillance cameras within the biome, they simply saw Aron sitting a couple of feet from the plant. But to Aron, this Pokémon was disappearing into the earth, reemerging to the side or even behind Aron. And each time that it did so, it appeared with a difference face.

"What about that Swampert?" Flowey said after appearing to Aron's left side, oddly enough bearing the Mud Fish Pokémon's face, and speaking English through its lips. For added guilt (and imagination), those words trickled out of its lips like frank blood and its face appeared more inwardly compressed than usual. "You almost KILLED that Pokémon in battle, by aiming for its head."

"But I didn't." Aron persisted to Flowey by his left, unnerved by the Swampert's bleeding face it was intentionally portraying. "I wanted to end the fight with neither one of us getting killed. I only defended and counterattacked. I didn't even launch the first attack."

"And what about that human?" Flowey (imaginarily) sank back into the ground and appeared besides Aron's right, this time bearing the face of the human Team Rocket Grunt, with the black beret and big red "R" on its front and everything. Then, it warped like before and appeared to have its skull imploded, based on how unnaturally depressed the black beret was. "Will you KILL a human to save yourself, out of desperation or instinct or intentional choice?"

"No, I won't." Aron said simply again. "Not even if my life depends on it."

Flowey's face appeared to blank out and pause for a bit because of Aron's unusual response countering yet again its mindset and manipulating words. In fact, Flowey's face blanked out so much that it suddenly split in half, from top to bottom, and having the left half droop lower than the right by an unsettling inch. Then, Flowey sank back down into the dirt and reappeared in front of Aron, displaying its own face instead of simply another unnatural mask. Only Flowey's face had a dark smile that turned its sclera(?) black and pupils(?) white, and made its horrifying grin curl upward like the wings of a Zubat.

"Oh, so you're a PACIFIST then? Or are you just not…DETERMINED enough to take a life?" Flowey spoke malevolently, constantly tormenting Aron in ways that plants should never be able to torment someone or something. It even smiled diabolically, displaying teeth that belong to a human instead of a flower, _sharp_ teeth and a flickering red tongue that belong to a predator rather than a plant. Calling Flowey a wild flower was as low a statement as calling a raging Gyarados a guppy. "That Charmander on the other hand was DETERMINED enough to take a life. In fact, he took out multiple lives in glorious HELLFIRE! Pokémon? Human? It doesn't matter as they're ROASTING the same way!"

This information was only known to Aron (and Flowey subsequently) through overheard gossip from the other Pokémon in this forest biome. And rather than take the established opinions that Charmander is a powerful Pokémon that Team Rocket successfully molded into their image, or that Charmander was felled on the spot for taking out the Team Rocket Grunts that were there to gauge its power and personality, Aron took an entirely different approach. Instead of thinking like a Pokémon about it, the Iron Armor Pokémon thought about it like a plant. And as a plant, they adapt to the situation as it unfolds before them, never judging it or spiting it.

"I wasn't there to know what happened," Aron began, already causing Flowey's jagged-toothed smile wane from sensing a counterargument alone. "I believe that, just like any other Pokémon in Team Rocket, the Charmander was just shaped to do evil against its will. And if they want me to do evil, then so be it. All I'll do is act the part but never lose myself as a result. I'll defend, but I'll never attack first. I'll hurt, but I'll never kill. Because I am a pacifist, and pacifists spare those that they fight, and protect those that they love."

It was obvious to Aron that his imaginary friend Flowey the Flower took those words rather well, based on the unnatural spastic movements the golden flower was making, and the rapidity of changes it was making to its face. Normal, smile, jagged teeth, tongue out, mocking, Swampert, human, Swampert _and_ human, jagged-teethed human, tongue out Swampert, all of the above, a bleeding red "R" spinning across its face.

And then, just as Aron flatly believed that Flowey would self-destruct or literally tear itself apart from convulsing too much, Flowey just…stopped. When it stopped, it displayed a new face, Aron's face, mirroring his own outside of the fact that there were no eyes within Flowey's eye sockets.

Was that the light shining down on Flowey's Aron face in such a way where the shadows formed blanketed its eyes? Or was that deliberately done, to highlight a point Flowey was about to make to Aron.

…It was to highlight a point.

"Golly, you really ARE an idiot!" Flowey said with his metallic lips now, before slowly sinking into the earth. "I'll be back to see how badly your tactic for survival has failed you. And when I do come back, I'll be the only daisy you'll push up. And that's assuming that Team Rocket decides to BURY you!"

The last thing Aron's imagination plays out of Flowey is a haunting, high-pitched laugh before Flowey disappears by sinking into the earth. And then Aron walks away from the oblivious golden flower that has been the catalyst for Aron's self-conversation over what's right and wrong and what to do about Team Rocket and their dark ideology.

But Aron doesn't walk far as he soon collapses from another dose of the same knockout gas that he inhaled before.

 _(Song Ends)_

* * *

Once again, Aron found himself awakening in the same dirt battlefield that he awoke in before, when he fought against a Grunt's Swampert. The only difference here was that Aron had the luxury of coming to without any Pokémon attempting to attack him. That being said, Aron still found himself awakening quickly, because he knew that he had to be on his guard against whatever it was Team Rocket wished to throw his way this time.

And as Aron soon noticed, they were trying harder, no doubt because of how easily he defeated that Grunt's Swampert.

The first thing that Aron noticed is that there wasn't just one Team Rocket Grunt. There were now two. However, they stood beside a _third_ man, one who wore an orange suit and looked at Aron with a devilish grin, as if assessing him with a hint of audaciousness.

"So _you're_ the little shit that knocked out one of my Grunt's elite Pokémon." The man known as Giovanni began speaking to Aron, uncaring if he understood him or not.

"…" Aron stared attentively at this man, automatically assuming that he was a higher ranking member, based on his distinct attire and elevated personality.

"Most new Pokémon can't even hold a candle against the first Pokémon they're pit against." Giovanni explained to Aron. "That is intentional, in order to…trim away the weeds, so to speak."

"…" Through this man's words and the gossip he's heard from his neighbor Pokémon, refined further by his peculiar imagination, and it was clear than Giovanni spoke of Pokémon Darwinism. "(In Team Rocket…it's kill or be killed.)"

"The few Pokémon that persist are the ones that exhibit peculiar differences from the norm of their respective species." Giovanni continued, knowing he had Aron's attention. "They may know a technique or two that is learned at a later date, they may know a technique or two that only comes through peculiar breeding, they may harbor a Hidden Ability, they may be a Shiny Pokémon, or they may be genetically superior."

"(Only the strong will survive…)" Aron continued pondering and simplifying Giovanni's words. "(And the weak are…killed.)"

"To Team Rocket, those are the only Pokémon that have value to us. Pokémon like that are trained, traded, or sold for profit."

"(What's the point if there's no love to go around?)" Aron contemplated, just seeing dominating strength as a lose-lose situation.

"And as for the Pokémon that _don't_ have value?" Giovanni muttered before reaching into an inner pocket of his suit and pulling out a Heavy Ball. "Well, my personal favorite method of disposal is to feed them to _this_!"

With a swift throw skyward, the Heavy Ball climbed at least twenty feet into the air before opening and releasing its mass of red energy before Aron.

"(To kill and be killed…)" Aron contemplated, "(…that's not the right way to achieve peace.)"

The Heavy Ball returned to Giovanni's grasp, just as the mass of released red energy began to tower over Aron and begin to take its horrifying serpentine shape.

"(The right way to achieve peace is to not fight at all.)" Aron began to believe, as if discovering the answers and realizing the truth. "(And to not fight at all, I must do what I do best.)"

The serpentine body of red energy solidified, disappeared, and revealed the solid shape of a silver snake-like Pokémon that towered about thirty feet over Aron, and easily outweighed Aron by a multiple of six. The Pokémon, known as a Steelix, wasted no time in targeting Aron and positioning itself to bring down its metallic tail over him.

The sight of IRON TAIL from the enormous Iron Snake Pokémon didn't deter or intimidate the little Iron Armor Pokémon. He stayed determined. he held his ground and used PROTECT to absorb the attack. However, the Sheer Force of Steelix's attack caused Aron's psychic shield to partially bury both it and himself at least twelve inches into the earth.

And Steelix was only getting started, for it too felt determined, but for all of the wrong reasons, from all of the wrong people.

"(…I must show mercy.)" Aron thought, with closed eyes and steadfast nature. "(…I must be a peacekeeper.)"

Steelix raised its tail again, higher this time, without Giovanni's consent on the matter, mostly because it knew that this is what pleases Giovanni.

"(I must not kill…!)" Aron continued contemplating with his eyes closed and his concentration maximized, cementing these words into its heart. "(I must not d–!)"

 ** _CRASH!_**

Like glass, Aron's PROTECT technique shattered after being weakened by subsequent use, offering next to no resistance to impede Steelix's second IRON TAIL attack. The attack slammed straight down over Aron, burying him into the earth alongside the tip of the Iron Snake Pokémon's tail.

…Or so it appeared.

When Steelix raised its tail, it noticed that Aron's head was crudely lodged in between a couple of segments of its metallic body, with the rest of his body limply dangling. It was clear to Giovanni and Steelix that Aron clearly sustained the full force of Steelix's IRON TAIL attack.

Steelix dislodged Aron off of its body with a sharp flick of its tail, causing Aron to fly towards the wall, inevitably crash into it headfirst, and then fall with a slump back down to earth.

…All two pieces of him.

Aron's head was already severely compromised, with cracks beginning to form over his iron carapace, and his mind was already severely concussed, not particularly evident because he fell unconscious. But after crashing into the wall, Aron's tough eggshell finally cracked. The leftmost portion of his iron hide chipped off, alongside his underlying skull, exposing the soft pink _brain_ at the center. Only it wasn't so pink, not after what Steelix did…

Shockingly enough, both of the spectating Grunts hurried over to the aid of the little Aron, picking up the broken piece of his skull/iron hide and then hoisting Aron between the two of them. Giovanni however already had his back turned towards them, after returning his mighty Steelix, and began to walk away.

"What do you want us to do with this Aron, sir?" The first Grunt said with obvious concern over the wellbeing of a Pokémon he not only sees potential in, but has grown a likeness towards.

"His brain is exposed and he's bleeding significantly." The second Grunt, one who has some medical training, assessed the badly injured Aron.

"Then weld his skull back onto his head, or take him to the crematorium." Giovanni said indifferently as he walked away. "Whether he lives or dies matters not to me. I'll prepare to order a new shipment of Pokémon immediately, regardless of his ability to survive."

Giovanni's words were cold and materialistic, from a man who is a fitting embodiment of the organization he runs as its kingpin. Whether he's speaking his mind or doing what's best for his organization is doesn't truly matter because Giovanni and Team Rocket are one and the same.

In the end, the two Grunts felt sympathy for Aron and carried him to the emergency ward.

* * *

 _Love Grows (Final Fantasy VIII)/Distant Worlds: Music From Final Fantasy/Nobuo Uematsu_

 _(Song Begins)_

A few hours later, Aron is returned to the forest biome as a shell of the Pokémon he once was. During the time in between his injury and being returned here, the emergency care personnel of Team Rocket mended his skull back in place…with a blowtorch. Then they wrapped his entire head over with bandages to absorb the trickles of blood that still seeped through the cracks.

It was clear that Team Rocket didn't care much for broken Pokémon, if they didn't give Aron optimal medical care and instead welded his injuries in the same way one would weld two slabs of metal.

Aron was breathing, but barely. Aron was comatose and placed directly in the center of the plot of land he had tended to earlier, just as the seeds were beginning to sprout. And for the next couple of weeks, the only company Aron had were the growing flowers he was soon surrounded by. No other Pokémon or human being bothered with Aron during this time, seeing him as a Pokémon that Team Rocket uncaringly tended to and then left to die slowly and neglectfully.

But somewhere within Aron's subconscious, the will to live still burned bright. And within the darkness of Aron's blanking mind, this light began to glow brighter and brighter. And as it did so, it didn't glow a pure white. It glowed a verdant _green_.

Eventually, this same green light began to seep directly out of Aron's body, faintly at first. But once it seeped out, it began to illuminate brighter and brighter by the minute. Once Aron's green light shined brighter than the overhead imitation sunlight of this biome, his HIDDEN POWER was revealed.

As if having a mind of its own, the green light reached out towards the plot of flowers that Aron had recently planted, all of the fauna that Aron was responsible for lovingly tending to, and even the few trees that were within this biome. In short, Aron's HIDDEN POWER influenced _all_ of the plant life, and enveloped it in the same emerald glow.

Then, through this HIDDEN POWER, Aron began to draw in nutrients from these plants, every single one of them. The flowers began to whither and the trees began to shrivel, as they all slowly _sacrificed_ themselves to the Pokémon that gave them loving attention and life.

The green light exuding from Aron's body eventually quelled after his HIDDEN POWER was finalized. And when that light died down, another light flickered back on. The light that was behind Aron's eyes as they opened up, illuminating his black eye sockets blue. The Iron Armor Pokémon slowly stood back upright, feeling one of the harshest headaches he's ever felt in his life. But to him, that was the least of his worries, once he noticed what became of the artificial environment he inhabited.

Death…decay…a lack of water for what can best be estimated as a few months?

As Aron soon noticed, even the golden flower–his _first_ flower ever planted–withered and died.

Or at least, it appeared that way in reality. Because, in Aron's imagination, Flowey the Flower was on its last water droplets. And before Flowey officially "died" through Aron's imagination, it cackled through a bleeding, grinning mouth as it stared at the Pokémon that had drained him away to nothing.

"HAHAHAHAHA! YOU SEE?!" Flowey cackled with the last ounce of energy it had left. "I knew you had it in you!"

Flowey's face disappeared as it uttered these last words. And during the last seconds of Aron's imagination of the final moments of his imaginary "friend's" life, he saw a pristine golden flower without a face to talk with, before seeing it as nothing more than a crispy and shriveled brown husk.

There was a surplus of emotions that Aron wanted to feel at this present moment. Should he feel sadness for seeing all of these plants wither away to nothing, from what he isn't _entirely_ sure was his fault or not? Should he feel spite for Team Rocket in cracking his skull open and leaving him for dead, in their attempts to shape him into something that conflicts his gentle nature? Should he feel irritable and try and remove the itching, blood soaked bandages over his head, as they're starting to stick and cling?

…No.

All Aron does is return to square one by planting new seeds in the holes and watering over them. The only difference here is that Aron buries the dead plants that he's able to–leaving the trees untouched for obvious reasons–into the soil, using them as compost and nutrients for a second generation of plants.

And how does Aron _feel_ about all of this?

"I exist…to protect and nurture…" Aron muttered flatly. "I live…to love…and not fight."

Aron was still able to speak cohesive sentences. But as it realized after his "accident" with Giovanni's Steelix, the damage to Aron's leftmost brain has harmed his ability to speak actively and feel definitive emotions. Had Steelix struck his skull a bit more squarely, and Aron may have either died or survived but end up as a metaphorical vegetable.

And as Aron soon realized from the two Team Rocket Grunts–the very same Grunts that took him to get welded–suddenly entering this biome and lifting him up with a considerable effort, it was clear that he had value to them, Team Rocket is acknowledging it, and regrets attempting to kill off a Pokémon that has displayed such HIDDEN POWER.

Aron's life afterward was a tranquil one. The first thing that Team Rocket did for the Iron Armor Pokémon was do a better job with tending to Aron's injury by actually putting him under the knife, instead of under the blowtorch.

With the aid of the most accomplished neurosurgeons Team Rocket has employed, of which are a couple that have responded to the alluringly universal language of money, Aron's crudely welded iron carapace fragment is pried off with surgical precision this time, instead of brute force. Aron's mental hemorrhaging and swelling were tended to after a few weeks of consistent, intensive, and appreciative medical care, and his skull fragment was properly replaced and sealed over, as it'll do until Aron sheds his hide upon his eventual evolution.

…But the mental damage that Aron has sustained can never be shed away.

Luckily for Team Rocket, Aron didn't behave like a Pokémon that was mentally disabled, or comparatively to a _human_ that was mentally disabled either. Yes, Aron spoke slowly and laboriously, as a result of his Broca's Ara being damaged, alongside the Association Area of his mind. However he was still speaking coherently, critically, and peacefully from what they can assess anyway. Aron's emotions were nonexistent, but Aron's _memories_ of said emotions, alongside his baser instincts, guided him into "feeling" the necessary feelings at necessary times. In other words, the emotional "mask" that Aron has learned to wear is almost like donning the emotions themselves.

For example, when Aron recalled the Charmander that had decimated both human and Pokémon life and, as it soon learned from Team Rocket Grunt gossip, was now being…"reformed" into a killing machine, Aron knew the most important emotion to attempt to display here is concern.

"If I ever…meet that Charmander…" Aron contemplated. "I will…befriend it…"

After a month of intense physical and mental rehabilitation that consisted more of recovering from Aron's injuries and surgeries than anything else, Aron was put into training to learn how to use powers that few of its species have access to. And as expected because of his background, Aron excelled in each and every one of these.

All of them…except for learning how to master his HIDDEN POWER.

Yes, Aron knew how to use that technique, and use it _freely_. And yes, Team Rocket were aware of how it is "normally" used in conjunction to how Aron used it to draw life from plants in a pinch. But Aron could never replicate the use of HIDDEN POWER the way he did when he was near death, even as he was told about it to clarify any lingering doubts he may have had and then subsequently attempt to mentally replicate that situation. Luckily for him, Team Rocket didn't do anything brash like have Giovanni's Steelix split his head open again. They valued Aron and his abilities too much to repeat that mistake.

In the end, they assumed that Aron's creative use of HIDDEN POWER can only be replicated by being put in a near death situation, and simply leave it at that, believing it'll make Aron last longer and not succumb to death as easily.

Overall, Aron's training is meant to strengthen him instead of changing his mentality. Team Rocket opts out of molding Aron into a heartless killer because they don't believe that Aron's "distinct" mentality, and they don't _dare_ risk damaging Aron any further as a result. Because, as the Grunts inevitably noticed, Aron follows orders obediently and is clearly intelligent–or perhaps stupid?–in choosing not to question them. They don't feel a need to change _that_ , especially because Team Rocket has plenty of other Pokémon that respond so loyally to their commands without questioning them or thinking anything of them.

This inadvertently proves to be the greatest blessing Team Rocket has given him, with his training being a close second. Aron's individuality is retained, because Team Rocket believed him to be loyal to a fault. As a result, Team Rocket is satisfied with a new Pokémon that has promise in becoming powerful and useful one day, and Aron lives to garden with the love he still remembers.

And the luxury of being able to garden without being reprimanded about it was soon realized, when he joined the ranks of a certain Team Rocket Grunt.

And his name is…

 _(Song Ends)_

* * *

"Once again, (…), I must kill, though I promised that I never would again." —Orson Scott Card (" _Speaker for the Dead_ ") (344)


	5. Diverging Chapter 5

**Diverging Chapter 5: Aqua Lapras' Rage**

Location: ?

Date: ?

Time: ?

 _Sailing, go sailing._

 _The ocean waves are waiting._

 _Low tide and high tide._

 _We don't cross the seas, we glide._

 _No room for fears._

 _No time for tears._

 _Just room to think._

 _Swim on, don't sink._

 _Even in death, even in life._

 _Blue skies, sunshine, no darkness or strife._

The location is the wide open ocean expanses, governed by no individual region. Instead, these oceans govern the land that they border. Many regions, one ocean.

Throughout these oceans, a multitude of oceanic life resides. Fish-like Pokémon swimming across its waters and Flying-Type Pokémon soaring over its surface. All of this Pokémon life was distinct, and adapted for living in a vast blue world. Some Pokémon resided in the ocean's deepest depths, evolving the means to illuminate their bodies to navigate across the darkness and hunt. Other Pokémon have evolved to surprise their prey with terrifying aquatic speed before swallowing them whole or tearing them apart with their teeth. Some Pokémon take enormous sizes that make other Pokémon think twice about engaging it in a battle to the death. Other Pokémon take shelter within the coral reefs below.

Over the surface resided a different type of Water-Type Pokémon. A herd of nomadic Lapras, numbering in the hundreds, casually swam over the water's surface. These Pokémon possess gentle hearts and a remarkable acumen that broadens their range of thought outside of just the bare essentials. Outside of being able to speak telepathically, they also sing. They sing about their life experiences, their mood, their scenery, and their pain. They sing amongst themselves or, in many cases, to the passenger Pokémon and _people_ that they always enjoy to ferry.

Their heightened intelligence, while clearly a distinct edge in their survival and social connections, also meant that they're prone to boredom and wish to keep themselves occupied with whomsoever they're transporting. This often meant conversing with their passengers, learning about the world outside of the blue emptiness they swim through for the most part.

And in conversing with these passengers, their minds expanded in ways they could never dream of, in ways that few Pokémon can ever hope to do without the aid of humanity.

Almost all of the Pokémon that they conversed with described of lands that were not blue. They described green forests, brown deserts, white mountains, red volcanoes, and grey cities. For many of these Lapras, they were sufficiently attuned to their psychic powers to sense the superficial thoughts of these Pokémon, forming mental pictures that appear so vivid that they can almost reach out and touch these new and wondrous environments. But sadly for these Lapras, when they moved from Point A to Point B with the Pokémon they found themselves ferrying, passengers and transportation were forced to disband, simply because these Pokémon didn't possess the proper means to bring them along to witness these new lands.

That wasn't the case with the _humans_ they ferried however.

For most of the Lapras in this herd, they preferred to ferry humans across instead of Pokémon, not because of the memories that they shared or the places that they've been, but for the _affection_ that some of them give. For many Lapras, the humans that they ferried were Pokémon Trainers. _Good_ Pokémon Trainers. Pokémon Trainers that commonly cared more for their Pokémon than they do themselves.

This was evident by the way that some of these Pokémon Trainers would pet any and every Lapras that wanted affection. With a human's distinct five-fingered hand, they clothed physical magic that hugged every curve, fold, and corner of these Transport Pokémon. Whenever these human hands rubbed up against their smooth, wet, and rubbery skin, a euphoria of tenderness would overwhelm them, making them coo and squeal in delight, smile and close their eyes as these Pokémon Trainers brought one or even _both_ of their hands against their faces, bellies, or spiraling ears.

In rare instances, the affection between Pokémon Trainer human and Lapras broke borders that, to put it simply, would commonly result in the Lapras children in the group asking questions that they're meant to know the answers to when they're older.

It was quite common for these genuinely good Pokémon Trainers to win the heart of the Lapras that ferried them across the ocean…or with one of the Lapras that felt like getting frisky with them. When that happened, the Pokémon Trainer would capture the Lapras that they bonded with, and said Lapras would give a fond farewell as it knew it was going to enjoy its new life. And whether or not these Lapras knew it or not in the days that followed, these captured Lapras did indeed enjoy their time with their new Pokémon Trainer companions.

The same can't be said by those that are captured by _force_ instead of with love.

Every once in a while, these Lapras would run into Pokémon Poachers, evil human beings that only see Lapras for their monetary value and growing rarity instead of as Pokémon or gentle living creatures. These Poachers would capture these Lapras to the best of their abilities, though they seldom used Poké Balls to do so. Instead, they would resort to boats and nets, harpoons and firearms. Many Lapras were captured, injured, killed, or all of the above by these despicable human beings. And in all of these cases, they simply swam away, singing heartfelt requiems for those that they've lost.

For one of these Lapras, a relatively young one that was given the nickname "Aqua" by its mother, it was one of the few Lapras in the group that actually despised humans. It didn't exactly retaliate by striking at any human being that most of the other remaining Lapras merrily felt like ferrying. It simply kept its distance from them, remaining neutral and almost invisible as other Lapras felt like getting tender to a human being that can essentially give them a new and exciting adventure away from the growingly repetitive oceanic doldrums.

For Aqua, the source of this disdain for humans was when one of its baby sisters was taken by a group of three rather brash human beings, who essentially leeched off of their good nature and only revealed their hostility when they departed. As for what became of her, Aqua really didn't know because her herd ultimately fled the scene out of fear. Perhaps Aqua's sister is being raised by a group of bad people, or perhaps some good-natured human being rescued her in her time of need. There was always _that_ possibility, as sickening as it made Aqua feel.

Regardless, one thing was evident as the years went by and as Aqua slowly matured into a young adult. As their overall good nature and drive to ferry people grew, their numbers shrank. What was once hundreds were now dozens. And out of these dozens, it was more and more difficult to find other Lapras herds across the open oceans, for similar results. Many of those herds were met with similar fates…or hunted down to levels that may make their kind endangered.

Aqua had yet to reach the ideal age to reproduce. It was still a year or two away from that, despite its seemingly adolescent body and full size. And the drive to breed between its neighbors wasn't as strong as it once was. Because, within their collective minds, they felt as if it all didn't matter unless they found a way to trek on land, most likely by being captured and loved by a Pokémon Trainer.

Aqua was the only Lapras in its herd to stick to the ways of her species.

* * *

During one dark day, when the dozens of Lapras remaining in this herd were forced to swim through a thunderstorm over the ocean, they were met with a fate worse than death.

They encountered Team Rocket.

The human crime syndicate caught the remaining herd by surprise, mostly because they didn't travel on the surface much like they did. They intercepted the Lapras via submarine, detecting their presence via radar, cloaking their own presence with highly advanced and specialized technology, and surfacing directly in front of their path when they least expected it.

And upon surfacing, most of the other Lapras were quick to flee, never really being the type to fight. Those that fled soon found themselves converted into red energy before being drawn into the submarine, from Poké Balls that were fired from the submarine itself through specialized small cannons.

Aqua witnessed as, one by one, her herd disappeared down into single digits. The Lapras that remained, excluding her, noticed where the Poké Balls were coming from and attempted to freeze those portions of the submarine with their ICE BEAM attack. They successfully immobilized half of them before they too were captured, leaving Aqua as the last Lapras remaining.

In staring up at this black submarine that harbored a blood red "R" , Aqua found herself displaying no fearlessness at Team Rocket, not even concern for her friends, family, and neighbors. All she felt was a growing storm within her being, the likes of which were akin to the storm that was seldom illuminating the massive stealth black manmade vessel with its flashes of lightning.

With that budding anger, she made herself stand out before Team Rocket.

Immediately locating the remaining holes on the submarine that were left unattended to, she used DIVE to remain hidden and position herself just right before using WATERFALL to rise before the cannons before they had a chance to align themselves to take a decent shot. They were disabled through a surge of electricity via Aqua's THUNDERBOLT attack, one by one by one.

Aqua splashed back down and dove into the water to evaded capture from the remaining cannons as their attention grew on her. In response to this, Aqua multiplied herself through DOUBLE TEAM, treating her clones like scape-Gogoat by having them perform the same tactics, only for Team Rocket to realize they were striking literal cannon fodder.

For those cannons, Aqua remained almost entirely in the water and fired off a few DRAGON PULSE attacks to obliterate them. And for the last few cannons that remained, after faking them out through this same effective tactic, she got within physical reach through WATERFALL and struck them physically down with her massive body. A ZEN HEADBUTT here, a DRILL RUN there, even an IRON HEAD for good measure. All of her attacks successfully managing to disable or outright destroy the last remaining cannons she saw that were still active.

Aqua falls back into the water, her body fatigued but far from appeased. She glared daggers at the black submarine, at Team Rocket that she sensed resided within its metal walls.

" _You think you can just get away with capturing my friends and family?!_ " Aqua shouted, defining her character before her established enemies. " _When I get in there, you'll all be in a world of pain!_ "

Aqua was about to back away so that she could swim at full speed towards the submarine and leap onto its top. But before she had the opportunity to do so, she saw a relatively large hatch door open, directly at the top of the sub.

Expecting a human to pop out, Aqua opened her mouth and readied herself by focusing an ICE BEAM attack to incapacitate or even kill the human.

But much to her surprise, as the large hatch door gave way to a rising platform that a solitary figure was standing on, what she expected to be a human being _wasn't_ a human being at all.

It was a Pokémon, and not just any Pokémon. Its overall shape suggested an aerodynamic body, and the random flashes of lightning from the storm highlighted a purple, scaly body.

Aqua had never seen a Garchomp before and therefore knew nothing about them. And yet, despite that, she didn't break her concentration on her ICE BEAM attack. She fired it with the intent to kill, seeing her ICE BEAM crackle like white lightning as it flew fast and true towards the unique Pokémon.

And much to her surprise, the Garchomp didn't evade her attack. It cleaved it in two with its DRAGON CLAW attack, causing both divided halves to roll along its claws and ultimately miss the Pokémon through forced redirection.

Whether or not Aqua realized her Type Attribute superiority to this clearly powerful Garchomp mattered not in this situation. All that mattered to Aqua was who this Pokémon was, and why Team Rocket sent it out _now_ of all times.

 _Ocean/Dynasty (CD 2)/Two Steps From Hell_

 _(Song Begins)_

" _Who and_ what _the hell are you?!_ " Aqua shouted to the Pokémon at the top of the submarine.

After cleaving Aqua's ICE BEAM in two, the Garchomp was no worse for wear, with its utilized claw not even feeling partially cold, despite the obvious tempest going on around the area. The Garchomp looked down at Aqua in silence, not necessarily thinking itself mightier than a wild and unrefined Pokémon, but rather looking at her with concealed curiosity that was veiled underneath a somewhat intimidating scaly hide for a countenance.

" _I asked you a question!_ " Aqua persisted. " _If you don't feel like talking, then I can make it so you can't feel your mouth!_ "

The Garchomp's response to this was to finally act, but not in a manner that Aqua was expecting. The Mach Pokémon leapt off of its pedestal, slid down the nose of the submarine with its claws sparking against the metal hull, and ultimately falling into the water. And before Aqua could ponder why it did that, the Garchomp resurfaced, _standing_ on the water like a Pokémon messiah through its use of SURF.

"My masters named me 'Terra' in order to distinguish me from other Garchomp." The Garchomp introduces itself formally, with crossed fins and the upstanding voice of a gentleman. "May I ask what _your_ name is, Lapras?"

" _And why the hell should I tell you, after your 'masters' captured my friends and family?!_ " Aqua was pissed off, and wasn't sure if beating this "Terra" Garchomp would quell her burning blaze.

"Because I want to remember the name of the Lapras that I pray lives through today, and doesn't end up at the bottom of the ocean as a rotting carcass."

The tone of voice that Terra said those words suggested that he was more concerned over Aqua's wellbeing rather than wishing to fight her. Aqua questioned Terra's logic within her mind, before ultimately speaking it.

" _My name is Aqua Lapras._ " She said with determination. " _Your masters captured my herd. Prepare to die._ "

Aqua launched a barrage of ICE BEAM attacks at Terra, each one fired off as instantaneously as the last. Terra used SURF to evade each and every single one, causing the streaks of white lightning to strike the submarine's scratched nose and the surface of the ocean, freezing both solid with patches of ice.

When Aqua found herself forced to turn her head the other way in order to continue attacking the evasive Garchomp, she was stumped to see Terra no longer within her field of vision, and only noticed a ripple of disturbed water left behind, a shadow of his former presence.

" _Where did you–?_ " Aqua wondered before feeling something heavy land on her shelled back.

"Don't fight me." Terra said behind Aqua's head. "This is a battle you can't hope to win."

" _Don't tell me what I can and can't do!_ "

Aqua quickly bucked Terra off of her shell before she believed he could have a chance to attack. Terra was forced skyward by Aqua's rowdiness, or so it appeared. Because, when Aqua launched a DRAGON PULSE attack Terra's way, Terra nimbly evaded it in mid-air before spreading its wings and using FLY to glide around Aqua, appearing to mock her with his presence and circular path around her. Aqua dared not allow Terra to leave her field of sight and continuously maneuvered herself on the water to follow the Mach Pokémon.

"I'm only looking out for your overall well being." Terra said seriously. "If my masters have wanted me to, I could've decapitated your head for the damage you dealt to their submarine."

Aqua was beyond listening to Terra at this point and didn't feel like talking to him. She began to manifested her psychic power into an attack that would arrive in the near future, knowing that Terra appeared to be stalling for time, and she would rather make that _her_ advantage instead of his.

"But the fact that you, out of your entire herd, decided to attack instead of flee," Terra told Aqua what he heard his masters speak of, and what he himself noticed when they kept him on standby. "Team Rocket sees potential in you and wishes to harness it. You can't escape them at this point, or else they'll kill you."

" _…Will you kill me?_ " Aqua said, never denying the possibility but curious if Terra was as honest as he appeared.

"No. And for your sake, I hope Team Rocket doesn't send out a different Pokémon to kill you." Terra admitted. "If you prove to be difficult, then they may consider that option. I've seen it so many times that I've truly lost count."

Much to Terra's surprise and _actual_ surprise, Aqua seized Terra through the use of PSYCHIC, freezing the Pokémon in place with the strength of her mind alone.

" _An antagonist that exercises mercy instead of murder, And a protagonist that doesn't mind getting herself dirty with the blood of her enemies._ " Aqua said, while simultaneously sensing her earlier use of FUTURE SIGHT finally beginning to emerge behind her back, as a massive orb of dense and colorful psychic energy. " _Who do you think will win this confrontation?_ "

Terra couldn't move and could only ENDURE the worst from Aqua's FUTURE SIGHT attack. When the attack inevitably connected, a tremendous detonation consumed the Mach Pokémon, heavily injuring him and causing him to lose consciousness, or so it appeared.

With Terra "defeated", Aqua released Terra from her PSYCHIC grasp and turned her attention towards the submarine. But before she could do anything else, a swift BRICK BREAK across the back of her head from her "fallen" opponent rattled her brain to the point where unconsciousness was imminent.

Aqua only had a split second to turn her head slightly to the right in order to see a despondent Mach Pokémon reach out for her before the Transport Pokémon's eyes closed.

"The one who has more experience will win this confrontation." Terra quietly answered Aqua's question regardless of her ability to hear him or not. "…I'm sorry, Aqua."

Despite the fact that Aqua outweighed Terra by almost 300 pounds, Terra had no problems carrying her and using SURF to return back to the submarine. From there, Team Rocket wasted no time in capturing her, putting her into a Net Ball just to be on the safe side. Terra was returned back into his somewhat old Quick Ball, stricken with the sins of assisting Team Rocket amass yet another Pokémon, but thankful that he did everything in his power to make sure that Aqua was a prize worth keeping and not killing.

And within the Net Ball, as Aqua slumbered within it, her experiences leading up to this life-changing moment fortifies her temper within her subconscious in ways that most Pokémon had no inkling of.

For most, anger is an emotion. For others, anger is a blind veil. But for Aqua, anger would be her greatest weapon.

 _(Song Ends)_

* * *

"We cannot discover new oceans unless we have the courage to lose sight of the shore." —Anon


	6. Diverging Chapter 6

**Diverging Chapter 6: Blaziken's Immature Curiosity**

The time period is early within Team Liberator, as a team of twelve Pokémon continues travelling across the world through the black cargo helicopter that they "liberated" directly from Team Rocket Main Headquarters. Through their actions in freeing the captured Pokémon that Team Rocket had enslaved en masse, they also take the time in training them to the best of everyone's ability, as an attempt to prevent future capture by the same criminal organization.

Through this win-win training, Team Liberator has also reaped from the reaped from the rewards, just as much as the Pokémon they freed across almost every single conceivable landmark of the world. Each and every one of the twelve Pokémon of Team Liberator learned new techniques, new strategies, new abilities that they didn't know they possessed.

And in the case of four of these Pokémon, little time passed before they grew up through a spontaneous and welcomed evolution.

Beldum evolved into Metang. Charmeleon evolved into Charizard. Lairon evolved into Aggron. And Torchic evolved into Combusken.

For the Chick Pokémon now made into a Young Fowl Pokémon, the evolution left Combusken ecstatic of his new physical prowess. What was once a tiny yet adorable Torchic that could only move as fast as Beldum could roll on the ground was now a martial artist prodigy, able to unleash 10 kicks per second at blindingly fast speeds and possess overall better control of his Fire-Type techniques and abilities.

In the case of the recently evolved Aggron and Charizard, they were already mature and their evolution much sought after and overdue. For Metang, it grew wiser, and therefore more mature as it now has _two_ brains increasing its cognitive functions instead of one. But for Combusken, the only thing that changed about the Young Fowl Pokémon was his appearance. Combusken still behaved like a naïve child at times. Not bratty or mischievous, but curious and inquisitive, commonly saying the wrong things at the wrong time, as the remainder of Team Liberator has come to expect out of him nowadays, much like Tyranitar and his brash demeanor.

Case in point.

* * *

During one of Team Liberator's "off duty" days, where they land their cargo helicopter by a river and give themselves a moment to relax and gather provisions from nature itself, Combusken would commonly ask questions to most of his fellow members of Team Liberator. As one of the newest members of Team Liberator, just like Metang, it was natural of either of them to be inquisitive.

But in Combusken's case, it was PECK first, CALM MIND second.

"Say Aqua? Terra?" Combusken asked these two Pokémon, as they were assisting each other in gathering water and bringing it back into the cargo helicopter. "When the two of you first met and from then on, have either of you two grown infatuated with one another?"

"…Define infatuation." Aqua said, repressing her anger unbeknownst to a relatively naïve and oblivious Combusken.

"Do you two see yourself having eggs and raising a family one day?"

Combusken's immediate answer came from a brief SCALD attack that knocked him onto his back and drenched his feathers in boiling hot water. And were it not for his Fire-Type attribute, he would've likely sustained a few substantial burn from the overall unpleasantness that most Pokémon would find from that attack. Instead, it was more of an inconvenience for Combusken, and a warning from Aqua Lapras before she huffed at him and dove into the lake, leaving the Young Fowl Pokémon alone with Terra Garchomp.

"…I'll take that as a 'yes'."

Terra offered a claw for Combusken to help him back onto his feet, which he graciously accepted. And after ruffling his feathers to get most of the water off of him, he now looked up at the Mach Pokémon, as a target for more questionable questions.

"Have you ever gotten _laid_ , so to speak?"

"Aren't you still a bit young to be talking about adult matters?" Terra dodged the question with another question.

"Define 'adult'." Combusken attempted to regain control of this conversation. "Many Pokémon are able to reproduce moments after they're born. Just depends on the species."

"Well…yeah. That's true." Terra's purple scales across his countenance began to grow a pinkish hue.

"So as I was saying," Combusken wanted answers. "Have you ever gotten laid before?"

Instead of giving him a straight answer, Terra appeared to just stare at the distance, as his face continued to blush to the point where his entire head was bright pink. Terra's legs crossed and his mind appeared to drift off into a daydream, one that Terra didn't appear pleased with watching. In the end, Terra hastily returned back into the cargo helicopter, almost tripping over himself and spilling the water that Aqua helped him gather, dropped it off and returned himself back into his Quick Ball.

"…Hmm." Combusken pondered what could've come across Terra's mind to warrant such a bizarre reaction. "Maybe he had performance issues or something…?"

In the end, Combusken shrugged and decided to see what the others were doing during this "off duty" day.

* * *

Combusken found his way across the grassland to find Aggron, stoically plucking the individual colors of the rainbow from the surrounding Berry Trees and placing them within a couple of massive baskets that could easily carry enough food in it to feed a Snorlax.

Combusken already knew a bit about Aggron through past (and sometimes awkward or nosy) conversations towards the Iron Armor Pokémon himself or through some of his colleagues. Combusken already knew of the reason why Aggron is almost completely devoid of emotion and that, contrary to the base nature of his species, is a gentle giant that would sooner hug you to death than fight you to the death. Combusken also knew why Aggron appeared somewhat lethargic and slow with his actions. But what Combusken didn't yet know about Aggron was his almost symbiotic affinity for nature.

"Say Aggron, may I ask you a question?" Combusken began.

Aggron's head appeared to perk up at hearing the Young Fowl Pokémon before he stopped what he was doing and slowly turned his head at the source of the voice. Combusken fearlessly looked up Aggron's black and seemingly hollow eye sockets, not intimidated by a sight that many other Pokémon would be unnerved at. And upon looking at the Young Fowl Pokémon, Aggron's tranquil blue eyes almost appeared by magic, before he slowly nodded at Combusken.

"Why do you love nature so much?"

And just like magic, those same gentle blue eyes disappeared behind the darkness of Aggron's eye sockets, as the Iron Armor Pokémon appeared to turn away from the Young Fowl Pokémon, ignoring his question. But in reality, Aggron simply stepped over to the food baskets he was presently tasked with filling up to the brim, and retrieved a handful of Berries from it, making sure that they differed from each other in almost every possible way. Then, while holding these small collection of Berries, Aggron moseyed over back to Combusken, both Pokémon now looking at the fruit.

"What do you see…?" Aggron asked Combusken.

"Berries resting on a pair of claws that probably need to be cleaned." Combusken noticed. "Seriously, there's enough dirt on your mitts to grow a Berry Tree of your own."

"…That's not…what I see…" Aggron slowly clarified, with a speech impediment that Combusken already knew about. "What I see…is a miracle of nature…"

"They're just fruits." Combusken appeared to argue with Aggron. "What do you see that's so special about them, besides the fact that we eat them to keep ourselves alive and well?"

"…I see…I see the colors…of the rainbow…" Aggron began to explain, slowly, soothingly, in a voice that made Combusken's mind tickle from how his words appeared to massage it. "I see…that no two Berries…are exactly the same… They exist…in all kinds of…shapes and colors… They each have…different properties…that benefit us Pokémon… They each require…tender loving care…to blossom into their…true potential."

"Just like us Pokémon?" Combusken added, beginning to understand.

"Just like us Pokémon…" Aggron repeated, smiling at the Young Fowl Pokémon's ability to learn quickly.

"Well, what about when they ferment and rot away when no one eats them?" Combusken trailed off slightly.

"Then they are best left…undisturbed and untouched…so that they can…return to the earth…and begin life anew…" Aggron analogized . "Just like Pokémon…and just like humanity…"

"Hmm…that knowledge would've benefitted me a few years ago." Combusken began to recall.

"Why is that…?" Aggron was curious.

"Both Beldum and I once ate some fermented Berries, without really realizing at the time that they _were_ fermented Berries, because we were starving at the time from our travels." Combusken explained lightheartedly. "Long story short, it was one of the strangest hallucinogenic experiences we've ever had. At least that's what the dancing Ludicolo were telling us anyway."

"…Okay…" Aggron was a bit puzzled by this somewhat random information.

"I have one more question for you, big guy." Combusken continued. "Is it true that when you were just an Aron in Team Rocket and before you met Xeno, the plants you raised saved your life?"

"…Yes…"

"How?"

"…I wish I knew…"

With no more questions to say and no more answers to give at the moment, Aggron turned his back to Combusken, walked over towards the fruit baskets and put the Berries back inside of it, before harvesting some more for their travels. Combusken left Aggron to his tasks and looked for another comrade to pester with questions, in order to satisfy his somewhat bottomless curiosity.

* * *

Combusken found Charizard gathering firewood–of _all_ Pokémon–to bring back to the cargo helicopter. And after offering to help Charizard carry some back, mostly as an excuse to test out his newfound physical strength, both Pokémon began to converse with one another.

And Combusken aimed right for the heart without a moment's hesitation.

"After evolving into a Combusken, I've been feeling eager lately to test out my strength." Combusken said, carrying back at least twice his weight in wood over one shoulder with ease, and using his other arm to simply keep it balanced. "How about you? Do you feel the same way?"

Without saying a word, Charizard shook his head and then appeared to make like a Blastoise and attempt to withdraw his own head back into his body for protection and security. But all it did as both Pokémon proceeded to drop off the firewood by the cargo helicopter was make Charizard appear to have a few more wrinkles across the length of his neck that he shouldn't yet have.

"You don't feel the same way." Combusken quickly noticed. "Why is that?"

Once again, without saying a word, Charizard took to the skies, leaving behind its gathered pile of firewood, as well as a few shed tears, onto the ground. Combusken saw Charizard fly away, as if to avoid him, before he looked down and inspected the drops of water that he didn't know If they were shed tears or something else entirely.

For some reason, Combusken believed them to be something else and withdrew back, accidentally dropping his firewood into the pile that Charizard left behind.

"Ew…just like a passerby Pidgey…" Combusken muttered before entering the cargo helicopter.

* * *

Being one of the wisest Pokémon of Team Liberator, Dusknoir was presently busy making sure that every single component of the cargo helicopter was in fine working order. And luckily for him, there was almost never anything wrong with it that warranted its attention, and taking a bit of time to examine its electronics and mechanisms was only a safety precaution. The reason for that was because this cargo helicopter, the same one that Dusknoir and its ally Pokémon made their escape in, was new and didn't even go through its first round of fuel at the time. And in regards of fuel, Dusknoir made sure to know every single fuel station around the area, to prevent them suddenly finding themselves dropping out of the sky.

If Dusknoir felt like it, it could take apart this cargo helicopter and piece it back together again. And if need be, Dusknoir could likely concoct some sort of organic fuel that would power the aerial machine.

Combusken entered the cargo helicopter and noticed Dusknoir making the usual rounds in ensuring that every single switch worked and every single gauge wasn't broken. Dusknoir eventually noticed Combusken's presence and turned its attention towards its friend.

" _Hello, Combusken._ " Dusknoir greeted telepathically. " _Did you have a question for me?_ "

"You are considered by humans to be linked with the dead, right?"

" _That's what they say, yes._ " Dusknoir responded calmly, without questioning _why_ Combusken felt like asking such a peculiar topic out of the blue.

"…Is it true?"

" _Of course it's true._ " Dusknoir confirmed Combusken's inquiries, before pointing at the top of its head. " _This antennae is the catalyst that allows me to speak with departed spirits, whether they roam this world…or the next._ "

"Have you done so?"

Much to Combusken's surprise, Dusknoir shook its head. " _No. I've never communicated with the dead before._ "

"Why? Do they scare you or something?" Combusken automatically assumed.

" _What's frightening about amorphous spirits to a Ghost-Type Pokémon?_ " Dusknoir gave Combusken a rhetorical question to address its fearlessness of dead souls. " _If anything, they fear me if they ever came across me, or any other Dusknoir with greater experience in necromancy._ "

"Is it because humans have labeled your species as the 'Grim Reaper' of Pokémon?"

" _Humans have only nicknamed us that because it's fact._ "

"Do you ever see yourself communicating with the dead?" Combusken asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

" _If the opportunity arises and the need to presents itself, then I won't hesitate to follow my instincts._ " Dusknoir said with absolute certainty.

"And what will you do to spirits that don't want to be talked to?" Combusken prodded further to the wise and comforting Gripper Pokémon. "You know, those that feel like going 'boo' to those that don't like to be booed?"

" _I'll swallow them whole._ " Dusknoir said with a smile on the mouth on its abdomen.

Upon hearing that, Combusken was suddenly disturbed enough to leave the cargo helicopter without another word, letting Dusknoir return to its maintenance duties.

* * *

Combusken found Absol relaxing by the lake, not really doing anything productive for Team Liberator at the moment, mostly because Absol wasn't really given anything to do outside of stretch his legs and relax as he best saw fit. Absol was simply staring at his reflection in the water, with his black bandana worn over his neck instead of over his mouth. This resulted in the water reflecting the byproduct of Absol's sins directly before his sight, in the form of a scarred mouth that bared no lips, and a horn that was no longer there.

"(I've been given a second chance by Latias and now by Team Liberator. Xeno Lucario was convinced by her to see the goodness in my heart. As a result, Xeno's willing to have me by his side, giving me a chance to prove myself.)" Absol pondered somberly, having long grown used to his scarred reflection, and knowing that he deserved it at the time. "(I've never really thought I was born lucky. Just lucky to be alive.)"

"Hey Absol! Do you have a moment?!" Combusken shouted behind Absol's back, believing the Disaster Pokémon to be asleep.

Absol's fur stood on end as he noticeably flinched upon hearing Combusken's rather shrill, juvenile voice. Sure, it was an improvement to the peeping sounds he made when he used to be a Torchic, but not when Combusken squawked like that.

"…I do actually." Absol's ears were ringing a bit and he rubbed his paws against both of them. Doing so removed the ringing, but not his elevated heartbeat. That would stabilize after about a minute.

"Oh sorry," Combusken apologized at seeing Absol's startled reaction. "I didn't know you were sleeping."

"I wasn't." Absol clarified, before turning around to face the firebird and sitting down. "I was just recollecting about my past, and the wrong choices I made that should've killed me."

"You mean when you attempted to killed all Riolu and Lucario?" Combusken bluntly and cheerily believed.

"…" Absol glared harshly at Combusken's apparent jubilance at speaking about a dark chapter in his life. And because his mouth was exposed, his glare was all the more menacing to the Young Fowl Pokémon, to the point where he would've unquestionably dropped an egg if he were female.

"…Sorry, was that too blunt?" Combusken scratched the back of his neck with his claws, one of many perks of his new body.

"Yes." Absol resisted the urge to growl at Combusken's unmindful nature. "The pain of one's fractured soul from the hardships and sins of his own past is not a laughing matter."

"But they're still a matter that's up for discussion, right?" Combusken wondered.

"Some things are better left explained when the time is right." Absol told the Young Fowl Pokémon. "Right now, the time is not yet right. I still don't have everyone's trust after all."

"But you have mine." Combusken almost whined.

"That's not enough to appease me." Absol said despondently. "I barely know you. And come to think of it, I don't personally know anyone else of our team outside of Sceptile, Wanderer, and Xeno."

"So you'll only open up to us when you've gained all of our trust?"

"Yes." Absol nodded. "As well as earned the right to have you all consider me as your friend."

Once again, Absol flinched at Combusken's actions. But this time, they were pleasant instead of unpleasant because Combusken didn't hesitate to approach Absol and wrap his feathered arms around the Disaster Pokémon in a hug. Absol found himself with widened eyes at the most pleasing of physical gestures, one that he's had so little of that he can keep track of them throughout his life.

Not even Latias has hugged him this genuinely before, only because Latias was more focused in reforming Absol and shaping him into a good Pokémon. That, and almost all of the times that Latias hugged Absol were from the backside, because she had to hold onto Absol as she soared across the skies.

"You'll be fine as long as you're good." Combusken said before letting go of Absol and wandering off. "You have nothing to worry about. We'll all warm up to you before you know it."

Absol was still feeling a bit stunned by the hug, but was thankful that Combusken was comfortable with him. He placed the black bandana back over his mouth, turned around to face the river, and knew that his life would be for the better from here on out. All he needed was time for everyone to grow accustomed to his presence, understand his past, and the trauma that Absol endured that forced him into the dark detour he ended up taking.

* * *

Combusken found Sceptile on surveillance duties, gingerly perched on top of one of the tallest branch of the tallest tree within the area. From up there, Sceptile was only standing on his feet, unable to lean on the tree for physical support. However, given Sceptile's affinity to trees, that was unnecessary. Sceptile's jungle combat prowess alongside his keen sense of balance was actually superior than that of either Wanderer or even Xeno Lucario…for the time being anyway. If Sceptile felt like showing off, he could stand on one of his toes on the very top of the tree. But then Sceptile would distract himself from his assigned task with training.

Combusken climbed the same tree that Sceptile was presently keeping watch over…by jumping one each escalating branch until Sceptile noticed that Combusken was only a few branches below him.

"Can I help you, Combusken?" Sceptile coolly hissed first, suspecting that Combusken wanted answers to some of his questions.

"Yes please," Combusken said, eyeing the one-armed burn victim. "I wanted to ask you some questions."

"Ask away then." Sceptile welcomed. "I was beginning to get bored staring at nothing of interest."

"How did you lose your arm and get yourself burned like that?"

Sceptile wasn't expecting Combusken to hit hard with his questions, and almost found himself losing his balance as a result. Luckily, Sceptile's tail was stretched out to balance the Forest Pokémon, as he himself flailed his left arm briefly before his physical posture stabilized.

"…I was expecting a less _direct_ question." Sceptile muttered, feeling his heart rate elevate from the potential fall he would've had.

"So is that a yes or a no on the question?" Combusken wondered with a subtle head tilt.

"It's a yes." Sceptile didn't feel the need to conceal his past to a fellow teammate and what he hopes to be a lifelong friend and partner in combat. "To make a long story short, my scars were the end result of Team Rocket's near attempt at killing me."

"The same Team Rocket that eight of our friends in Team Liberator were part of?"

"Yes, the very same." Sceptile confirmed. "If I wasn't taken for dead, I would've likely been captured, just like Wanderer and Xeno Lucario."

"But you were taken for dead." Combusken knew that much. "Xeno was in so much emotional pain because of that, in believing you and Tiny having perished in a ball of explosive hellfire. Wanderer fared better, but not by much."

"Yes…and only Tiny died as a result…" Sceptile closed his eyes and turned his head away, as if taking a moment to mourn for the loss of one of his closest friends. "In my very arm no less…"

For once, Combusken showed enough decency and respect to contemplate what it must be like to lose a friend, to see him or her or it die in your very arms. Combusken has never had a friend die before…or at least has never seen the exact moment a friend of his died before his eyes. The Pokémon Day Care life that Combusken was born into was a peaceful one. And when it ended, he had Beldum as his only friend for a while before officially meeting Xeno Lucario at Mt. Moon.

"Is that why you wield that enormous sword of yours?" Combusken pointed out after enough recollecting silence. "To strengthen your remaining left arm?"

"…Yes." Sceptile said, for the most part.

"What kind of a Pokémon was Tiny Riolu anyway?" Combusken asked Sceptile, knowing he was but one of four Pokémon that knew the Emanation Pokémon well, all for different reasons.

"Selfless…caring…and justified…" Sceptile recalled fondly. "He was the Pokémon that found Xeno Lucario, or just Riolu as he was known back then. He was the one that saw greatness in him, and outside after what Absol did to him that nearly cost Xeno his life back then. He was the one that was eager to train him, and I in turn when I noticed how easily he picked up on learning new techniques."

"Gosh…I sure would've liked to meet Tiny." Combusken wished. "He sounds like a born leader. A good friend."

"Yeah…he was…" Sceptile droned despondently.

* * *

After conversing with Sceptile, Combusken proceeded straight towards Wanderer and Xeno Lucario. Combusken already knew enough about the Pokémon that he hadn't conversed with, or he could always talk to them about their pasts at a later date. Besides, after what Sceptile said about Tiny Riolu, he wanted to know more about him through the two Lucario that the late Emanation Pokémon lovingly befriended.

But when Combusken found both of them meditating by an open field and asked them what they knew about their deceased friend, their responses were no different than those of Sceptile.

" _Tiny's dead now._ " Xeno knew with a heavy heart. " _It would be wise of all of us to not linger in the past and continue to mourn for him._ "

" _We should be focusing on the future._ " Wanderer added. " _We should focus on all twelve of us as Team Liberator, and what we plan on doing with the Pokémon we removed from Team Rocket's possession._ "

"And what will we do after that?" Combusken wondered. "No matter how long it takes, what will we do when the last captured Pokémon is released?"

" _We'll think of something._ " Xeno said merrily. " _As long as we're all still together, that's all that matters to me._ "

" _Personally, I was thinking of finally returning back to Spear Pillar._ " Wanderer made a suggestion. " _Do you recall what I said about that Prophecy I could only make out a small part of?_ "

" _I do actually._ " Xeno said before his face appeared to grow somber. " _But none of the Pokémon that we liberated reside in Mt. Coronet. And none of them wish to stay there either._ "

"So we'll just go there together when we've finished our business with the freed Pokémon." Combusken wisely suggested. "It's not our concern right now to read some fragmented text that all but one of us can't even understand."

" _My thoughts exactly._ " Wanderer agreed with the Young Fowl Pokémon. " _The Pokémon that we freed come first. We must do what we can for them before ourselves._ "

"How long do you suppose it'll take to release them?" Combusken wondered, with a claw to its elbow and to its beak in cognitive thought. "I know that Poké Balls can release Pokémon back into the wild, but I don't know how."

" _I know how, but it's not as simple as that,_ " Xeno began to explain. " _Releasing hundreds of Pokémon as is will do little in strengthening them against a repeat outcome. Taking the time to train them individually is our best course of action, and then releasing them wherever their hearts desires. They deserve as much, after what they've been through…and after what I've sucked them into._ "

" _It'll benefit us_ all _as well._ " Wanderer spoke without the third wheel mentality in this trio conversation. " _No one Pokémon is alike, therefore we have the benefit of learning from a multitude of Pokémon as they will from us as well. Coupled with Xeno's virtual encyclopedia of Pokémon abilities and techniques, alongside the fact that most of these Pokémon want to learn from Xeno and us themselves, we'll be busy for months, perhaps even years._ "

Combusken liked the sound of that, especially if everything goes well. Years of training across almost every single conceivable Pokémon art and attribute would strengthen them all into frighteningly powerful Pokémon. And with that power, they would use it responsibly and kindly to those that require it, and mercilessly to those that are _asking_ for it.

"It's a shame that your Mewtwo friend isn't here to be a part of this, eh Xeno?" Combusken noted.

Xeno hummed briefly and looked away melancholically.

" _It's for the best._ " Xeno didn't entirely understand Mewtwo's agenda, but knows that the Genetic Pokémon has its own path to follow. It's own Path of the Aura. " _Hard to say if we'll ever meet again. Mewtwo is one of a kind after all._ "

"So are you."

A smirk and a brief chuckle was the only reaction the dark-furred Aura Pokémon gave to Combusken's praise for him.

" _I know I am, but I don't like the thought of singling myself out, especially around friends._ "

* * *

"Never mistake knowledge for wisdom. One helps you make a living; the other helps you make a life." —Sandra Carey


	7. Diverging Chapter 7

**Diverging Chapter 7: Charizard's Woes**

The time period is before Xeno Lucario is captured by Team Rocket, and is given the nickname "Xeno" by the Boss of Team Rocket. During this time, Team Rocket operates as it always does, by focusing on making money out of money, and money out of Pokémon. Any personal feelings that came with that didn't matter, meaning that the ends justified the means.

This would come at the emotional expense of many a Pokémon that Team Rocket gathered en masse into their arsenal, be they captured, traded, imported, or bred.

In the case of one of the eventual members of Team Liberator, he was born into Team Rocket, molded by them. And before he saw the light, he saw only darkness.

Before becoming Charizard, he was a Charmander. And upon being born into Team Rocket, Charmander never grew up into a timid adolescent. He was born timid.

The first month of his life was spent in a biome that adequately highlighted the kind of environment a Charizard would be born into. Relatively rocky terrain, complete with locales of fire and even pools of lava to soak in. But because this was Team Rocket, this biome wasn't built for the comfort of the Pokémon. At least not for the long run. It was merely meant to house them until judgment day, where they would work as slaves for Team Rocket, or be disposed of by whatever means they best see fit. And with Team Rocket, they can be sadistically _creative_ with the way they dispose of their Pokémon while simultaneously making it enjoyable to the Grunts.

They can cremate Pokémon by the hundreds in the underground furnace within Team Rocket Main Headquarters, watching their bodies become bloody popcorn. They can be diced like a fine salad, with their blood running as finely as any topping. They can be swallowed whole by larger Pokémon, such as Giovanni's Steelix. They can be shot dead by the weaponry in Team Rocket's arsenal. Or they can simply be beaten to a bloody pulp by veteran Pokémon in Team Rocket's ownership. It's become commonplace to the point where it's a scheduled spectacle for the enjoyment of the human Grunts, at the price of the Pokémon that they deem worthless.

Charmander's first month of life was a relatively awkward one. The surrounding Pokémon, innocent at the time, attempted to befriend him. But Charmander always appeared to withdraw himself from the attention of others, usually hiding from them as they looked for him in vain. It couldn't be helped in his part. They were playful Pokémon and he was the weird child that sat in the corner. As it turns out, that would only hinder them, as their innocence would be shattered much more harshly.

The day eventually came where each of these Pokémon, one by one, were plucked from their biome and examined by Team Rocket for any signs of strength that would make them worthy of fighting for Team Rocket, or die. Charmander saw each of these Pokémon that attempted to make him their friends dwindle by the hour, until he was the last Pokémon remaining. Charmander didn't mind this and merely saw it as peace and quiet.

…Until it was his turn.

* * *

Before Charmander knew it, it was in an indoor battle arena, with a few Grunts watching in the distance, here to observe Charmander's budding strength–assuming he even has any–and see if he is worthwhile to keep or to kill.

And they didn't hold anything back against this Charmander.

One of these Grunts stood opposite of Charmander, not as his opponent but as the owner of his opponent. He held out a Heavy Ball and casually tossed it in Charmander's direction. The Heavy Ball opened mid-flight, unleashing a mass of red energy that materialized into a larger ball, made of solid rock that soon unfolded its stubby arms, legs, and head before its opponent.

Charmander would have to face a Golem, and one that has been expertly trained albeit noticeably scarred from past battles. There were indentations on its rocky hide, as well as areas where it was harshly scratched and chipped away at.

Upon seeing this considerably larger opponent, Charmander fidgeted in place, tapping its claws against each other and shifting its eyes in a nervous gesture.

"Um…I'm not much of a fighter…" Charmander mumbled directly, never really making eye contact at the Golem. "I don't really want to fight either…"

"Shame, little flicker." Golem spoke with a telltale foreign accent and a voice of hardened experience akin to a soldier of established rank. "This is Team Rocket. To fight is to live. To show mercy is to die."

"But why do we have to–?"

"No talk! Fight now!"

Golem may be a slow Pokémon, but not in terms of attack speed. Charmander's oversized opponent already began tearing hand-sized chunks off of the battlefield and tossing them towards the Lizard Pokémon in the form of ROCK THROW.

With mild panic, Charmander hastily evaded each and every single one of these incoming slabs of hardened earth. Each one, whether Charmander knew it or not, would be super effective if it struck him, causing serious damage that may even break him at such an early state in life. But in that moment, all Charmander cared about was to survive, and avoided each attack as though his life was on the line. And in the end, all of the rocks left indentations on the walls and on the floor, none on Charmander's seemingly frail body.

"Good! Good!" Golem appeared pleased with Charmander's performance so far.

"Good _what_?!" Charmander exclaimed in a cold sweat. "Trying to kill me is good for you?!"

"You're not dead yet! That's good!" Golem appeared oblivious to Charmander's wellbeing and more on what Team Rocket demanded of him. "Now it's time to make the earth cry out in battle!"

"What's that supposed to–?!"

Without warning, Golem repeatedly jumped a couple of feet into the air. At first, it appeared asinine, especially when Golem weighs over 660 lbs and is _clearly_ not built for vertical height. However, with each landing back down, the Megaton Pokémon unleashed varying tremors via its MAGNITUDE attack, their strength varying with the incremental shifts in height that Golem was able to reach.

Because of Charmander's diminutive size, his eyes were closer down to the earth. Therefore, as he saw each ripple in the battlefield branch out akin to water after a stone has landed over its surface, he didn't hesitate to jump up. Luckily for him, he was able to avoid most of the tremors through physical strength alone. But when gravity took over for the little Lizard Pokémon, so did his fire. From his open mouth, Charmander unleashed a FIRE SPIN attack straight down, catapulting him even higher and allowing him to avoid Golem's entire MAGNITUDE attack.

The only damage Charmander sustained was coming back down flat on his belly, never having jumped that high.

"Good! Good!" Golem commented approvingly at Charmander's evasiveness and interesting use of fire. "You used your hellfire cleverly instead of instinctively!"

"Hellfire?" Charmander didn't like the sound of that. "But my fire is meant for warmth, not for violence."

"Team Rocket wishes to use that fire to burn down their opponents!" Golem said with a disturbing smile that would no doubt be at the expense of others. "What you call warmth is what they call their final moments!"

"…I'm not a fighter! I don't want to be!" Charmander shouted at the hardheaded Pokémon. "I don't want to use my fire to kill!"

"Then prove it!"

Much to Charmander's surprise, Golem withdrew its arms, head, and legs back into its body. And after using DEFENSE CURL, Golem's body began to roll in place, at speeds that appeared to defy physics as Golem's body spun faster and faster without moving forward, or without any apparent physical aid.

And then Golem shot towards Charmander like a stampeding herd of Tauros, nearly flattening the Lizard Pokémon had he not dived to the left in time.

Before his face met the earth, Charmander felt the push of wind that Golem's massive body made across his tail flame, the last part of his body to avoid Golem's ROLLOUT. And as he stood up, he saw Golem appear to take notice of the fact that it missed and turned back around to come at him again.

In a blind panic, Charmander ran away from the living and rolling boulder, running just fast enough where Golem couldn't catch up to him but didn't exactly slow down either. And because Charmander was running and Golem was rolling, Charmander would grow more fatigued first.

So, in a mix of creative impulse and survival instinct, Charmander used FIRE SPIN on the ground to catapult himself into the air. And when Charmander landed, he wasn't on solid ground but directly on _top_ of the Megaton Pokémon. This forced the Lizard Pokémon to run backwards in order to not fall off and to maintain balance for as long as Golem continued to use ROLLOUT.

"Don't think I can't feel your feet, little flicker!" Golem's voice rolled alongside its body, but it was still loud and clear to Charmander. "You're quick on them, but how long can you last on me?!"

Somehow, Golem sped up and used ROLLOUT at a much higher RPM than Charmander had seen so far. And despite running backwards to the point where he was almost certain his feet would fall off, he couldn't stay on top of Golem for long and inevitably fell off. And when Charmander's body hit the ground, he too rolled, painfully, and on his side. When he stopped rolling, he was flat on his face, bruised all over to the point where he didn't stand back up immediately. He attempted to nevertheless, and it took him about five seconds to successfully do so.

And when he did get up, he saw Golem standing directly behind him, no longer using ROLLOUT and no longer curled up within itself.

"Hit me." Golem said merrily.

"…Wh-what?" Charmander stammered in confusion.

"I said hit me. Hit me with your best shot." Golem repeated itself. "I want to feel your hellfire first hand."

"Why?"

"To personally see if you are worthwhile for Team Rocket to keep…or to kill."

Charmander felt his body grow cold from the ultimatum that Golem indirectly set for him. Charmander began to realize that Golem doesn't have the power here, but Team Rocket does. Golem is merely here as a Pokémon that has lasted long enough for Team Rocket to acknowledge its strength. That may be why Golem appears so cheery for Charmander, because it doesn't want him to die in failure.

That, or Golem is just hiding its pain with false happiness. Charmander was too naïve to tell the difference at this time.

Even though Golem was waiting for Charmander's attack, it never came. He was far too timid to attack by _his_ choice and merely acted defensively or evasively at this point. All he did was look up at Golem, intimidated by his bulk, before fleeing in the opposite direction, straight towards the collection of rocks that Golem had thrown towards Charmander at the first moments of their "fight".

With a heavy sigh, Golem reached out a hand towards the rocks that Charmander was running off towards. And through the use of STEALTH ROCK, the "trap" that Charmander was literally running towards sprung. All of the rocks embedded on the walls broke free, and all of the rocks half-buried into the battlefield rose up. All of these rocks floated and homed in on Charmander, before surrounding and colliding directly into him.

The end result obliterated these rocks and left the Lizard Pokémon fainted on the ground, face down once again, only with a small puddle of blood acting as a crude pillow.

"Poor little flicker…" Golem lamented Charmander's sealed fate. "You are a kind Pokémon, but kindness doesn't survive in Team Rocket. Only brutality does."

Golem saw the Team Rocket Grunts that were on standby within the battlefield come to Charmander's aid and pick him up. And by no means were they ginger with him either. They merely picked him up by the base of his tail, uncaring if it actually broke or not during this battle, set him down onto a stretcher, and wheeled him over to what could crudely be labeled as Team Rocket's infirmary.

"If you can't consume all that you touch, then they'll consume you." Golem said before its owner returned it back into its Heavy Ball after a job well done.

* * *

In the few weeks that followed, Charmander faced similar opponents to that particular Golem. And regardless of the Pokémon that he faced, be they bigger and stronger than the Megaton Pokémon or small and diminutive to the point where _any_ Charmander could defeat it in one blow, Charmander _never_ retaliated or attacked.

At the end of each fight, Charmander would be brutalized either by the Pokémon that Team Rocket cast out to fight him, or by Team Rocket themselves. Larger Pokémon treated Charmander like a ragdoll, some of them at least attempting to have Charmander strike back out of pity for the timid Lizard Pokémon. But in the end, Charmander simply cowered in fear, attempted to run away, panicked, or any combination of the aforementioned.

Naturally, Team Rocket saw great weakness from this particular Charmander. To them, this Charmander was at the bottom of the barrel, forgotten and worthless, crushed underneath the weight of hundreds more before him that have far more value than he ever will. Hence the reason why Team Rocket cares less and less for his health in between battles, simply because they're attempting to put Charmander into a more dire situation where he'll retaliate in glorious hellfire. That was their "last hope" for him.

But this never worked. And at the end of the day, Team Rocket realized that they were just beating on a dying Rapidash and had to put him out of his misery and insignificance in the most satisfying manner possible.

…By tossing him into an open body of water and watch him get torn apart by a school of ravenous Gyarados.

* * *

"…Why must I be tortured so?" Charmander muttered at his dire predicament.

 _Tightrope/BIOHAZARD REVELATIONS ORIGINAL SOUNDTRACK (DISC 1)/Ichiro Kohmoto_

 _(Song Begins)_

For this particular manner of execution within Team Rocket Main Headquarters, Charmander alongside a few supervising Grunts were within a marine biome that is large enough to contain a single Wailord in captivity. Charmander stood within a solid, transparent cage with a platform that was designed to give way when the Grunts aforementioned pitched a Poké Ball into the center of a target that operated the dropping mechanism of Charmander's platform.

So in short, the few Team Rocket Grunts in attendance were going to play a dunk game. Whoever hits the Tauros-eye will win and everyone will receive the prize of seeing Charmander fall from a few stories in height and drown to death, either in water or in the stomach of one or _all_ three of these Gyarados, depending on how voracious and quick they are.

And they _were_ voracious, as Charmander could see by the way their dorsal fins breached the water's surface, circling directly underneath the cage. All of these Gyarados were no doubt starved and also _knew_ of this little game that Team Rocket played. To them, this was just show and dinner.

Luckily for the little Charmander, he was far and away _up_ from the ground to be within range of them, should they decide to jump the water and break the platform. Also, the cage he was within was a heavily reinforced barrier and state-of-the-art, designed to protect against an all-consuming attack that would threaten the lives of Pokémon Trainers during a Pokémon League tournament.

But when the transparent platform below Charmander's feet opens up, there will be nothing to protect him as he tries to swim with the fishes.

And it certainly doesn't help the Lizard Pokémon that the Grunts saw this as a game, never once considering or valuing the lives of the Pokémon involved.

Using traditional baseballs for this "game", each Team Rocket Grunt appeared to prolong Charmander's torment alongside the Gyarados' hunger by stepping back 100 feet and pitching from there. Their first few attempts in turn order were disastrous, none of them even remotely close to the target. But little by little, their aim steadily improved, until they were at least hitting the broadside of a barn.

Charmander looked on at their growing accuracy and eventually decided to look away, unable to handle the feeling of his heart dropping like a rock within his chest at the sight of each fast ball appearing to hit the target but fall short. He accepted his fate and sat down, while he still could.

"Why was I born into this life?" Charmander talked to himself, hearing his voice echo oddly within the six surrounding walls he was contained in. "Why do these people treat Pokémon with such disrespect? What did we do to them to deserve this?"

Charmander wasn't paying attention, but one of the Grunts decided to cheat and halve the distance separating him from the target, much to the support of the other two Grunts as they stepped closer as well.

"I don't want to fight. I'm not a fighter." Charmander's somber eyes began to give way to tears, and his voice began to give way to his inevitable cry. "Can't they see that? Can't they respect that?"

Through a blurred vision from the film of tears overlapping his eyes, he reluctantly gave one final look at the Team Rocket Grunts, unaware that they had halved their distance and only paying attention to one of their pitches.

…At the worst possible moment when one of them successfully hit the Tauros-eye.

When the mechanism was triggered and the platform dropped, so did Charmander's heart and body. In a blind panic, Charmander attempted to seize the edge of the collapsed platform, but it was much too smooth for his stubby claws and gave way much too quickly to give him this last thread of life.

Now, Charmander was falling straight down into the pool of Gyarados. And when one Gyarados saw him, all three saw him. They each built up a ridiculous amount of speed within a short distance by whipping their serpentine bodies across the water, allowing them to breach the surface in an attempt to eat him _before_ he hits the water.

This time, Charmander _did_ retaliate, but it was too little too late in getting him out of this situation. The best it did was prolong the inevitable, as he used FLAME BURST and struck the first Gyarados directly in the face, as well as the other two in the same spot from the resulting burst of fire. And with all three recoiling from the sudden fireball to the face, Charmander couldn't avoid a dip into the pool and fell into the water back first with a painfully resounding splash.

The three Team Rocket Grunts in watched through the transparent glass of the pool, amazed at how the little Charmander actually managed to stun all three of those Gyarados, one after the other after the other. However, that didn't stop them from laughing at Charmander's misfortune or suddenly contemplate second thoughts about their actions. They simply watched as each Gyarados eventually shrugged off the shallow burns they have on their faces and quickly lock their eyes onto a drowning Charmander.

Within the water, the only thing to emerge from Charmander were bubbles from his open mouth and steam from his dimly lit tail. The fact that the water didn't extinguish his tail is merely because he still has some life in him. Although being knocked unconscious by the fall into the water would've achieved the same results for his fire tail.

Regardless, all three Gyarados quickly spotted the Lizard Pokémon and opened their mouths even wider, racing towards their prey in an attempt to see who can swallow him whole first.

Charmander regained consciousness right then and there, and immediately held his breath to preserve what little oxygen he had left in his system. Both the fall and the water may have made Charmander's vision blurry, but his perspective focused quickly enough to allow him to witness the trinity of death that were homing in on him.

Upon seeing three bottomless maws triangulate towards his position, time itself appeared to slow down for Charmander. His heart rate ticked like a clock within his inner ear drums. His eyes dilated to take in every single detail of each of these three Atrocious Pokémon, right down to how many scales on their faces have been charred. The fire on his tail defied physics and began to grow to the point where he was adorned by it.

And when the water no longer touched his body, Charmander's instincts took over and all hell broke loose in one calamitous ERUPTION.

 _(Song Ends)_

With a scream muffled by the water and carried to the surface through hundreds of bubbles, all of the anger and all of the pain that Team Rocket put onto a Pokémon too small to bear it all was unleashed. The water rapidly glowed sanguine from Charmander's blazing light. The trio of Gyarados backed away upon sensing a sharp spike in their surrounding temperature. They began to bang against the transparent walls in an effort to escape the growing heat. But in the end, they were cooked alive once the water surpassed boiling point.

The Team Rocket Grunts, watching on as the massive indoor pool suddenly became an oversized cauldron by such a young and small Pokémon, slowly backed away at the sight of billowing columns of steam rising up from the surface, hot enough to burn skin on contact. They attempted to flee from the growing white plume, but the steam moved too fast and they too were boiled on the spot. They could only scream and convulse in pain before falling over as reddened heaps of their former selves, their lungs burning from the heated air they were forced to inhale.

When the steam cleared up once all of the water was evaporated, so did Charmander's ERUPTION, before it could _truly_ be unleashed in the hellfire it was meant to be. All that was left after the attack were three dead humans, three dead Gyarados, a melted room, the smell of melting glass, and a prone Charmander with its eyes closed and its tail fire extinguished.

* * *

"Sir! You need to have a look at this!"

"What is it?! Can't you see that I'm in the middle of an important business matter?"

"Sorry, sir, but what I have to show you will more than make up for it."

"Alright then. I'm listening. This better be good."

"Here, these are all documents regarding the Charmander that was scheduled for termination."

"…This can't be authentic."

"Sir, I assure you, it's the real deal. If you don't believe me, there are six other reasons to clear your doubt."

"…Where is that Charmander right now?"

"In critical condition but recovering, sir. It's in the Pokémon ICU at the moment. When we retrieved it, it's tail flame was extinguished. If we hadn't come in so quickly and revived that Charmander, I'm almost positive that it would've perished alongside its victims."

"It decided to reveal its power when its life was genuinely on the line? Hmm…there may be potential in this Charmander after all. If it can cause that much raw damage, just imagine what it can do as a fully-matured and realized Charizard."

"It would be a guaranteed powerhouse for Team Rocket, sir. Worth its weight in gold."

"It would indeed."

"But sir, what about the bodies? What should we do to them?"

"How boiled are the Gyarados?"

"…Um, to perfection sir."

"Then inform the chefs that we'll be dining on Gyarados tonight."

"Alright sir, but what about the _human_ bodies?"

"We follow basic protocol. Inform their families of their passing and pay them their insurance fees."

"…But those three Grunts had no families to speak of."

"Then that money will be used to repair the room that the Charmander melted."

"And what of the Charmander _itself,_ sir? What will we do with it once it recovers? I highly doubt it'll continue fighting after enduring that ordeal. Not that it did much fighting to begin with."

"Once it recovers, let me know personally. I have an idea."

* * *

 _Heavy Price Paid/Halo 2 Original Soundtrack: Volume 1/Martin O'Donnell; Michael Salvatori_

 _(Song Begins)_

Almost a month passed since Charmander's ordeal with the Gyarados and the fact that Team Rocket attempted to terminate him. His stay in the ICU wasn't a pleasant one. On more than one occasion, they had to defibrillate his heart, a direct response to seeing his tail flame go out. But that was only the first week and he barely recalled any of it through blinks of reality in between consciousness and unconsciousness, moments where he felt as though he had died and they brought him back just as he was glimpsing Arceus Itself. And from the second week to the present, he was monitored extensively, and probably given the best amount of medical care that most Pokémon in Team Rocket could only dream of. Sure, it meant that your body had to break and you had to be recognized for your strength to even be considered worth attending to, but Charmander didn't care. Nor did he realize just how lucky he truly was.

Once out of the ICU, Charmander wasn't brought back to his biome. Instead, he was brought into a different room altogether. Charmander was obviously unfamiliar with the schematics of Team Rocket Main Headquarters, and the only inkling he had about this room was that it was extremely high up from the ground. Or at least it felt that way when the elevator carried him and his "owner" Grunt.

When the elevator doors opened, a pitch-black hallway appeared to stretch on for an eternity. And regardless if Charmander wanted to be here or not, the Grunt forcefully nudged him into the right direction with his boot before the elevator doors closed between them and the elevator itself went down.

"Where am I…?" Charmander whimpered, clutching his tail and therefore holding his tail flame close to his face.

Charmader took slow and narrow steps, dragging his feet against the ground in case there was a gaping hole he wasn't seeing. His tail flame was bright, but the walls were just wide enough where they didn't reflect back the red glow of his flickering ember. At best, his tail only illuminated the ground within a three feet radius. His obvious nervousness and trepidation didn't help his illumination either.

Already having lost count of how far he's walked and how long he's been here, Charmander simply proceeds forward, knowing there was no turning back because the door behind him was literally closed shut, and his only "company" blatantly abandoned him. All he had within this apparently infinite darkness was himself, with no one really caring for him for all of the right reasons.

A few steps further, and Charmander stopped dead at the sight of a pair of overhead lights turning on about ten feet away from him. Those two lights quickly revealed to Charmander multiple things. The end of the hallway was within sight. The halls were narrower than they appeared. There were no obvious holes to fall into.

And there was a tall, couth man staring down at Charmander, emblazoned with an orange suit that glowed brighter in the white light than Charmander's own tail flame.

This man never introduced himself to Charmander. He just went straight to the point.

"Exactly one month ago, you were scheduled for immediate execution for failure to use your powers to defend yourself." His authoritative voice had no problems rebounding across the hallways to reach Charmander's inner ears. "Initially, you appeared weak, pathetic, and timid, the list of qualities we firmly stamp out of our Pokémon numbers. But when you were narrowly executed, your true power revealed itself, and we had a change of heart."

"Is that why…I'm still alive?" This man clearly intimidated Charmander. For all that he knew, he was speaking to the Boss of Team Rocket himself.

"We were able to save your life as a result of our immediate haste in preserving what we expect will be one of our greatest weapons." He continued, regardless of understanding Charmander's words or not. "But you're still timid. It's in your nature to be timid. And while we can't change nature, we can overlap it."

This man in the orange suit moved something other than his mouth before Charmander. He raised his right arm and snapped his fingers. What happened next completely startled Charmander as he saw a pair of spoons held by an Alakazam hover directly over his face.

Then, before Charmander could let out a scream at the third individual to enter this picture, Alakazam used HYPNOSIS and put Charmander into a state of deep sleep. Then, Alakazam awaited the Boss of Team Rocket's orders, to turn Charmander from a timid Pokémon into a slave for Team Rocket.

"You will no longer act out on your own accord. You will no longer have free will. You are now a pawn, at the mercy of anyone who wishes to own you and order you."

His commanding voice may just be ricocheting out across the hall. But thanks to Alakazam, every single word is being branded into Charmander's mind, and will forever alter Charmander's future and emotional demeanor.

"Every command you are given, you will initiate. Every complicated action you _yourself_ must take, you ask for permission. Only your baser actions will be your own, with the rest under lock and key by those over you."

From his left pocket, the Boss of Team Rocket took out Charmander's Level Ball, before aiming it straight towards the Pokémon already captured by it.

"And when you wake up, you will remember nothing of our conversation."

 _(Song Ends)_

* * *

"There is no such thing as freedom, (...). Sometimes, though, there's a chance to choose your master." —Orson Scott Card (262) (" _Ender in Exile_ ")


	8. Diverging Chapter 8

If you recall from my first Diverging chapter, I would only make an AN if I have something to say in regards to the plot.

This chapter will begin an entire side arc throughout this story.

That is all.

* * *

 **Diverging Chapter 8: Dusknoir's Contacts with the Dead**

" _So Absol, remind me again why you wanted to take me to this particular cemetery?_ "

"There's still some unfinished business for me here, Dusknoir. And as a Speaker for the Dead, I must check this off of my bucket list, once and for all."

During the near decade long time period that Team Liberator was actively training and releasing the Pokémon that they retrieved from Team Rocket's possession, Absol and Dusknoir took some time off, so to speak. The reality was that they had just finished releasing a few Ghost-Type Pokémon back into this area, Sinnoh Region's Lost Tower, and were either contemplating resting here for the night or returning to where their friends would be.

In the end, Absol convinced Dusknoir to rest here for the night, but not before ridding Absol of a few personal demons that he still harbored back in his dawn. And as both Pokémon began to ascent the Lost Tower in the dead of night, with Dusknoir's helpful FLASH illuminating their path, the Gripper Pokémon naturally had some questions.

" _Why here, of all places?_ "

"Well, it wouldn't make sense for the Lucario Clan to be buried in a different region, right?" Absol explained. "Although, when I first found out that humans found some of their bodies and brought them here for a proper burial, at first I couldn't care less. They're indirectly responsible for the dark path that I walked down, before I met Latias and she set me straight."

" _So why do you care_ now _?_ "

"Because I want answers. Unbiased answers." Absol continued explaining. "I want to know what was going on within the Lucario Clan that I destroyed, shortly after they destroyed the Absol Clan that I was born in."

" _You told Xeno that it was because of a territorial dispute._ " Dusknoir recalled, from the words he remembered Xeno telling Team Liberator regarding Absol, back in his genesis

"Yes I did. But as time goes on and my future is in sight, I find myself having more of my past to recollect on." Absol explained. "One day, I recollected on my dark days in the northernmost point of Sinnoh. I grimly remembered my parents that were slaughtered, the brothers and sisters that I no longer have, the disrespectful desecration the Lucario Clan left my neighbors in, before snacking on some of their carcasses. My father was beheaded, my mother cut down as she was crowning her next litter. My own life was spared because I was at the wrong place at the right time."

Dusknoir's use of FLASH from its head antennae flickered for a moment as a result of Dusknoir picturing the events through Absol's eyes and growing slightly nauseated from the brutal imagery.

"As time grew on, the mere thought that our clans met their demise through a petty dispute over territory began to lose its meaning to me. I began to question _why_ they fought for territory. I began to question what led up to that. And in turn, I began to question the origins of these two clans."

" _Did your family ever explain their Clan's history with you?_ "

"No, never. And that was because I never asked." Absol admitted with a regretful pang. "How blind I was even as a child. How serious I was too. I didn't even laugh as my mother joked about soiling herself while in labor. Sure it saved my life, to leave the den out of disgust at the time, but it left a pained impression in my mind ever since, because that was the last time I saw her."

" _I mean you no offense, but your mother strikes me as…naughty._ "

"Oh, I'm sure she was a naughty girl." Absol joked with a slight smirk. "I bet she found it erotic having multiple Absol licking her genitals to 'keep her clean' as she was in labor. I hear that some Pokémon find it sexually stimulating to lay eggs or give birth to live young. But I wouldn't know because I'm male. We have fun elsewhere."

" _What do you hope to learn from these deceased Lucario?_ "

"Honestly, I just hope that I leave here with more information than when I came in. I'm hoping they share what they know with me, considering our…past history. What I know for certain will happen is that they'll try to pick a fight with me. They've done so before actually."

" _…'Before'?_ " Dusknoir was surprised to hear this. " _You've been here_ before _, Absol?_ "

"Yes. Latias has taken me here a few times before." Absol clarified. "And every time we come here, we didn't make any leeway, simply because the Lucario spirits are too enraged to be negotiated with."

" _…And that's where I come in._ "

"Yes." Absol confirmed. "I need you to put these souls to rest, but not before I get the information that will put my _own_ thoughts to rest."

" _You do realize that I've never_ actually _communicated with the dead before, right?_ " Dusknoir admitted. " _I never learned how. And regardless if it comes to me by instinct or not, I've never had a need to until now._ "

"You don't have to." Absol explained. "Just my presence will bring them out of their graves."

" _And you're not scared of what they'll do to or tell you?_ "

"I'm a Dark-Type Pokémon." Absol stated fearlessly. "Unless they physically punch me in the face, I don't have anything to fear. And because you're by my side, I have nothing to be afraid of either."

* * *

Upon reaching the highest floor of the Lost Tower, Dusknoir could already sense angry spirits within the area, without actually seeing any wandering about. And even though Absol doesn't have that same sense to detect phantasmal projections, the chill in the air made the tuft of fur around Absol's neck appear more pronounced.

"I know you can sense their presence," Absol said, burying his face a bit into his tuft of white fur, alongside the black bandana he wore over it. "But for me to physically _feel_ it… They're obviously pissed off at me."

" _They most likely are,_ " Dusknoir strongly believed. " _Especially with how you described you killed them._ "

"Yes. But the one I'm wishing to talk to didn't die by violence or the elements." Absol specified. "He died by PERISH SONG."

" _PERISH SONG?_ " Dusknoir almost exclaimed in surprise as he sharply faced Absol. " _But how are you still standing here after using that lethal, double-edged technique?_ "

"I never used it. I don't even know it." Absol began to explain, feeling no shame in doing so, especially with how he saw it being used. "The spirits of my slaughtered family used it on the scarred Lucario that led the Lucario Clan."

" _And because you fled the scene, PERISH SONG didn't influence you in its entirety._ " Dusknoir knew.

"Correct."

A brief silence between these two Pokémon was necessary as both Absol and Dusknoir looked about the tranquil and well-maintained cemetery before them. They saw hundreds of tombstones and thousands of urns across this appropriately large room…even a dozen or so Pokémon that have been stuffed through taxidermy, much to Absol's surprise.

"(I wonder if Pokémon Trainers ever ponder how they want to part ways with their Pokémon when they're old or dying.)" Absol thought darkly about a subject that almost all humans who capture and raise Pokémon, especially with tender loving care, almost never think of. "(Do they do what I'm seeing in here, or do they just release them back into the wild? I suppose I'll never know, considering I'm _technically_ a wild Pokémon, even though Xeno has my Moon Ball and I deliberately allowed my "capture" to no longer preoccupy myself with it.)"

Dusknoir looked about the area with his one red eye, sensing ethereal energy from only a few of these graves.

"(Absol has been here before, and has met these Lucario spirits before.)" Dusknoir contemplated. "(Is it possible that they've accepted and have moved on? Or are they lulling us into a false sense of security?)"

As if to answer Dusknoir's thoughts, the telltale sounds of an AURA SPHERE being charged caused both Pokémon to sharply turn to face it. Both Pokémon saw a ghostly and transparent AURA SPHERE forming, but no owner for it. And just as quickly as it appeared, it was fired with a suspiciously angry grunt, straight towards Absol.

…Who stood there without sensing any danger.

" _Absol, shouldn't you–?_ "

The AURA SPHERE didn't miss striking Absol, but it merely phased through him, as well as the wall behind him, before most likely disappearing without a trace. Absol didn't even blink, because he had already reacted to this before and the novelty of the "danger" has worn off and the only ghosts that can (partially) harm him are Ghost-Type Pokémon.

" _…Never mind._ "

"I know you're here, scarred Lucario." Absol droned, as if tired of this behavior. "Make it easier on yourself and appear already."

A ghostly growl with no apparent source of origin echoed about within the tallest floor of Lost Tower. Dusknoir's antennae continued vibrating and his red eye continued surveying the area for any signs of a scarred Lucario, only to detect nothing. Absol's gaze remained deadpan, as If he were participating in a game he has either no interest or has grown bored of playing.

"…Alright then." Absol grew tired of waiting and looked at Dusknoir. "He's all yours."

With a nod, Dusknoir's gaze appeared to intensify as his solitary red eye appeared to enlarge within his "eye socket". And through this piercing red eye, a haunting red light shot out and enveloped everything in Dusknoir's perspective. Through the use of FORESIGHT, even dead ghosts could be made visible by the Gripper Pokémon for other Pokémon to see.

And when the scarred Lucario was made visible, he didn't appear the least bit happy towards Absol. In fact, he appeared ready to lash out, even though it'll ultimately be in vain.

" _…I have a name, you pretentious white bitch._ " The scarred Lucario growled, yet bared no fangs. At least not yet.

"Maybe, maybe not, I don't really care." Absol spoke with blunt honestly. "You never told me your name after we first met. You dragged it to your grave."

" _And in my grave it'll stay._ " The scarred Lucario continued, swearing his anonymity. " _Do you have any idea how_ insulting _it is to die by song?!_ "

"Unless I commit seppuku from hearing a crappy human song on the radio, I'll never know." Absol joked flatly.

" _You look like you already tried that and failed._ " The scarred Lucario said, pointing a paw to the fact that Absol lacks his horn and left eye, and wears a black bandana to cover his face. " _Now you wear that poor excuse for a mask in shame of yourself._ "

With a brief pause and a blink of his right eye, Absol takes his left paw and pulls off his black bandana, before tossing it over towards Dusknoir. The Gripper Pokémon seizes it without so much as looking at it, mostly because his red eye was fixated on the obviously unnerved expression the scarred Lucario had upon seeing Absol's lack of lips, thus bearing most of his surprisingly intact teeth to a Pokémon that doesn't know all of Absol's past.

"I know you'll find some satisfaction in this, and I've long since not cared, but…" Absol's speech through that mouth further unnerved the scarred Lucario, mesmerizing him with all the wrong reasons. "These scars on my face were caused by a Lucario by the nickname of 'Xeno'."

" _This 'Xeno' needs work in learning how to kill decisively._ " The scarred Lucario appeared to mock Xeno. " _All he did was permanently scar you._ "

"Oh trust me, he can kill just fine." Absol reassured. "At the time, I was lucky to survive thanks to Latias, even if it took me a while to realize this blessing in disguise."

The scarred Lucario nasally huffed cynically." _He doesn't sound so tough._ "

"I beg to differ. He could probably make you his bitch if you were still alive to prostrate yourself." Absol commented and then made sure he got the last laugh by sharply changing the subject. "But enough about him. Let's talk about you and your Clan."

" _There's nothing about the Lucario Clan that I'm willing to discuss with half-dead scum like you._ " The scarred Lucario refused, harboring great hatred for the Pokémon that was essentially responsible for the genocide of his clan, out of revenge for the fall of his own.

"Believe me, I don't see any enjoyment conversing with you either." Absol stated, hiding his anger much better than the Lucario. "But perhaps we can come to a mutual understanding. A bargain, if you will."

" _Such as?_ " The scarred Lucario deadpanned, finding very little to gain now that he's lost everything except for his lingering spirit.

"My friend Dusknoir here can put your soul to rest." Absol pointed his front left paw towards Dusknoir.

"(Even though I've never done so before…)" Dusknoir wisely thought those words.

"If you cooperate in telling me what you know regarding the origins of animosity between our fallen Clans, then I'll have Dusknoir hold up our end of the bargain."

"(All of a sudden, I feel like a third wheel.)" Dusknoir thought somberly.

" _I've told you before, and I'll tell you again._ " The scarred Lucario's words came out quickly. Almost too quickly, as if he's said them before and is merely repeating them from his committed memory. " _I know nothing regarding the tension that formed between the Absol Clan and the Lucario Clan._ "

"Once again, I don't believe you."

A momentary pause passed by where both Absol and the scarred Lucario stared each other down from their respective distances, with Dusknoir watching on in silence, learning a bit more about the Disaster Pokémon's scarring, tragic back story. Then, Absol gestured Dusknoir for the black bandana, and Dusknoir tied it back over Absol's lips through the use of PSYCHIC.

"And once again, I'll be taking my leave, with neither of us benefitting and getting nowhere with our lives. Or in your case, your _afterlife_."

With that, Absol about-faced the scarred Lucario and began to leave. Dusknoir followed suit, seeing no reason to even glare at the Aura Pokémon phantasm anymore. Dusknoir began to contemplate where they should take shelter within the area, and was about to discuss to Absol where they should both spend the night, when suddenly…

" _You're not lying, are you…_ "

Absol and Dusknoir slowly turned around to face the scarred Lucario, not believing this apparent change of mind just yet.

" _Your Dusknoir friend…_ " The scarred Lucario continued, his voice much gentler in tone compared to before. " _Does he really possess the power to put my soul to rest?_ "

"All Dusknoir do, to my knowledge anyway." Absol knew enough regarding the subject.

" _Truthfully, I've never used that power before because I've never needed to._ " Dusknoir admitted, knowing that lies were difficult to hide before a Lucario. " _But it is entirely within the realm of possibility for me, through my instincts rather than my discipline._ "

The scarred Lucario appeared deep in thought regarding keeping his end of the bargain to these two Pokémon. He still harbors animosity towards Absol, but the events of the past already happened and there's little purpose in holding a grudge about them. Besides, his own death was painless, almost like a forced sleep through PERISH SONG. Also, the other Lucario that were buried here alongside him have moved on, once they've gotten over their feelings during that particular day. The scarred Lucario hasn't followed suit because he still holds those feelings close to his chest.

" _…I've grown bored of staying in this place for years, without crossing over when my friends have already done so._ " The scarred Lucario admitted. " _Perhaps it's time for me to let go and do the same._ "

Absol and Dusknoir approached the Aura Pokémon once more, sensing that this encounter will bear them some fruit after all.

" _…If it means putting my soul at peace, then I'll tell you what I know._ "

" _And if it doesn't put you to rest, then I'll be more than willing to assist you._ " Dusknoir promised.

The scarred Lucario merely nodded before turning his attention towards Absol, knowing that the focus of this conversation will involve the two of them.

 _Morphogenetic Sorrow/Kyokugen Dasshutsu 9 Jikan 9 Nin 9 no Tobira [999: Nine Hours, Nine Persons, Nine Doors] Soundtrack (Disc 2)/Shinji Hosoe_

 _(Song Begins)_

" _The Absol Clan and the Lucario clan originally existed as few in numbers that found shelter in the northernmost point of Sinnoh. At the time, neither one knew of each others' existence. All that mattered to them was that they reached an area that had yet to be touched by human hands._ "

" _And to this day, most of Snowpoint Mountains remains untouched by human hands._ " Dusknoir added.

" _But as the years passed and their numbers grew, resources within the environment began to dwindle._ " The scarred Lucario continued. " _Tensions between both clans didn't begin to form until they suddenly found themselves competing with one another for food and shelter. So the first time that they began to meet en masse, they were already committed to going after each others' throats._ "

"Thoughts of coexisting together never really entered either Clans' minds, did they?" Absol pointed out. "In a harsh and frigid environment, every bit of energy counts. And for it to be greatly wasted on fighting…"

" _It's a sin. I know. We've both been down that road before._ " The scarred Lucario knew.

"We're both sinners, but we're not hopeless." Absol spoke from personal experience, at how he was given a second chance at both life and purpose, thanks to Latias.

" _Anyway, from what my parents told me about to our clans' history, before they passed away at a regretfully young age,_ " The scarred Lucario didn't appear the least bit emotional about the demise of his family, most likely because it happened at a relatively young age. " _There was only one instance where our respective Clans attempted to bridge together._ "

"Really?" Absol highly doubted this. "Not once have I heard of this from any other Absol before."

" _That doesn't surprise me. My parents told me that I should never speak of it after they explained that chapter in history to me._ " The scarred Lucario explained.

"So, who attempted to bring both clans together?"

" _A couple of outcasts from their respective Clans._ " The scarred Lucario began to explain. "One male Absol and one female Lucario, both of a completely different color."

When the word "different color" is thrown around Pokémon, the first thing that pops into Absol's mind regarding the subject is this.

"Are they Shiny Pokémon?" Absol believed.

" _Yes, they both were._ " The scarred Lucario confirmed Absol's assumptions. " _While I'm well aware of how exotic and_ rare _a Pokémon of a different color is, both of their particular color schemes–the Absol's red and the Lucario's gold–hindered their respective Clan's ability to hunt and gather food._ "

"I can imagine." Absol commented. "We Absol are already snow white and blend into arctic or mountainous environments. The Lucario from the Lucario Clan are already a different color to blend with the environment in comparison to their default blue. But for both of them to harbor the wrong colors in their environment? That would only–"

" _That would only make hunting all the more difficult, especially if the prey can see them coming from a mile away._ " The scarred Lucario knew well enough. " _Both of these Shiny Pokémon already received bad reputations amongst their respective Clans for being overall failures. And while each Clan at first sustained them, each Clan eventually questioned to themselves 'why?'_ "

"Why feed a mouth that doesn't deserve to eat? Why support a Pokémon that can't support itself?" Absol threw out plausible questions that likely entered the minds of the Absol and Lucario of their respective Clans. "It's a cruel manner of thinking to sever the weakest link in your chain, but the environment that we used to live in is _crueler_."

"In the end, regardless of personal opinions," the scarred Lucario soberly continued. "Both of those Shiny Pokémon were cast out of their respective Clans."

" _But they didn't perish._ " Dusknoir believed. " _They thrived in their cold banishment._ "

" _Yes they did._ " The scarred Lucario confirmed this. " _Especially when they soon met and intertwined their fates…in more ways than one._ "

"They mated and had children?" Absol found this surprising. "What led to them copulating with one another?"

" _I've never met either of them in person. And both of us were merely children at the time. I was told that it was because they initially saw comfort in one another and that they should stay together to survive._ "

"And from there, they survived to the point where they thrived?"

" _To the point that they_ loved _one another._ " The scarred Lucario specified. " _This led to them having sexual intercourse, which in turn led them to raising a mixed litter family. And fortunately for them, none of their children shared their exotic color schemes._ "

" _The odds of being born a Shiny Pokémon are approximately 1 in 8192._ " Dusknoir stated. " _They're highly desired by Pokémon Trainers, to the point where they've discovered ways to increase their odds and bred their Pokémon ad nauseam._ "

"Hard to say for those Pokémon if they feel like they're in heaven or in hell." Absol digressed, imagining what that would be like, to be born into a life where breeding occurred almost as frequently as breathing.

" _It sounds much better than the pointless lives we lived, in that white wasteland._ " The scarred Lucario stated before returning to the topic. " _Anyway, word eventually got out of their existence, their success, their relationship, and their family. And what do you suppose was the unanimous decision that both of our Clans decided to enact in response to them?_ "

Absol contemplated this briefly, imagining what would result if a _third_ Clan existed. How much more challenging would it be for each Clan, for each individual Pokémon, to hunt and gather food and resources in an environment that threatens to kill them on a daily basis from its harshly limited resources alone.

"…Kill them." Absol almost knew with perfect certainty. "Kill them all."

The scarred Lucario nodded grimly at this cruel and mutual consensus between both the Absol and Lucario Clans. Dusknoir merely crossed his arms, ultimately disappointed in the unified choice of actions that befell both Clans.

" _That pair of Shiny Pokémon thrived through harmony between two species cast aside from rival clans._ " Dusknoir began to speak his disappointment and frustration. " _Both clans severed their only chance at unification. And both sides were too blind from their rivalries with one another to realize it._ "

" _I suppose that's why we ultimately didn't last._ " The scarred Lucario muttered grimly.

"How did they die?" Absol specified, albeit a bit reluctantly considering his past experiences with genocide, both in enduring and in giving.

" _They simply drove them out, separated the parents from their offspring, and slaughtered all of the children individually before devouring their carcasses._ " The scarred Lucario bared no emotion through the bloody words he was saying telepathically. " _Basically, nothing different to what we've been doing to each other for years._ "

" _And what of the parents?_ " Dusknoir wondered. " _What befell them?_ "

" _To my known knowledge, they fled._ " The scarred Lucario believed. " _They were heartbroken by the loss of their children, but they were smart enough to not instigate their own demise by confronting either Clan. They fled Snowpoint Mountains altogether where their fates are an enigma. They both may still be alive, or they both may be dead._ "

"What makes you believe that they've died?" Absol asked out of curiosity and to understand the picture with the most amount of pieces possible.

" _In their escape attempt, the Absol was castrated and the Lucario was impaled in the abdomen._ " The scarred Lucario concluded this story. " _Both Pokémon escaped certain death by diving into the frigid sea, but they may have succumbed to freezing to death instead. We don't know for certain because we never saw them again after that, note even traces of their bodies._ "

" _So, both of them could be anywhere right now._ " Dusknoir believed.

" _Anywhere in this life…or the next._ " The scarred Lucario stated grimly.

 _(Song Ends)_

With that, there was nothing left for the scarred Lucario to say that was of interest to Absol and Dusknoir. No longer did the scarred Lucario bear any antagonism towards the Pokémon that was responsible for wiping out the Lucario Clan. Because in the end, it would've happened eventually due to the harsh climate. Absol's vengeful killing spree was merely bad karma at work.

" _I think I'm ready…to cross over now._ " The scarred Lucario mumbled softly, stifling the urge to cry out of happiness.

Absol didn't say a word. He merely looked at Dusknoir before the Gripper Pokémon understood his role here and hovered over towards the scarred Lucario. Once within reach, Dusknoir gingerly put a hand on the Aura Pokémon's chest and used his antennae to connect this world with the spirit world, the world where all departed souls go to find peace or to await their eventual reincarnation.

Before Absol's eyes, the scarred Lucario ascended not in a flash of light, but by merely fading into nothingness. The last thing he was able to notice from the scarred Lucario's was a tear rolling down his smiling face, before he was no more.

With that, Dusknoir retracted his hand and then face Absol. And despite successfully assisting a lost soul cross over and find peace, the look he gave Absol suggested otherwise.

" _I never knew I could do that._ " Dusknoir told Absol. " _It felt so easy too._ "

"Well Dusknoir, there's a first for everything." Absol said with a warm smile before about-facing and proceeding down the Lost Tower.

Dusknoir sensed Absol's surprisingly good mood and followed after the Disaster Pokémon.

" _The answers that the scarred Lucario gave you…_ " Dusknoir began. " _They've put your mind at peace, haven't they?_ "

"Yes they have." Absol felt like a great weight had been lifted from his heart. "At last, I can put the past behind me, and focus on the future."

" _The future that both Latias and we as Team Liberator have granted you._ " Dusknoir added.

"Yes."

Once both Pokémon left the Lost Tower, Absol continued walking forward alongside Dusknoir, but turned his head to see the towering cemetery one last time. In doing so, Absol felt as though all of the sins that were still crawling on his back had left him.

All except one.

"Dusknoir, can you do me a favor?"

" _What kind of favor?_ "

"That antennae of yours allows you to communicate with denizens of the spirit world. In other words, you're able to communicate with the afterlife, right?"

" _…I believe so._ " Dusknoir has heard of his kind possessing that ability. In that sense, he possesses the ability to communicate with the dead. He just needs to try it out, considering he hasn't really done so before.

"Can you send a message to all of the Lucario I felled?"

" _What would you like me to tell them?_ "

"Tell them…I'm sorry."

* * *

"Fine, it's easy to love your enemies after they're safely dead. But still. Humans give up their villains only reluctantly." —Orson Scott Card (362) (" _Shadow of the Giant_ ")


	9. Diverging Chapter 9

**Diverging Chapter 9: Luxray's Glass Pride**

Location: Team Rocket Main Headquarters (Floor 15): Training Room

Date: November, 2010

Time: 2:45 PM

As Xeno has wished it, Mewtwo is training three Pokémon that he requested from Giovanni, the Boss of Team Rocket. These three Pokémon, Duskull, Larvitar, and Shinx have already made strides in growing stronger through his training. Shinx in particular has even learned a technique or two that is not normally available to his respective species.

VOLT TACKLE.

Shinx understood the strength of VOLT TACKLE, alongside the limitations of it because of his underdeveloped body. Shinx wasn't fully evolved yet and therefore couldn't endure the recoil that came from using VOLT TACKLE at full power. That's why the first time he ever used that attack, by striking Mewtwo with it, he promptly fainted from the double-edged tactic, barely reddening Mewtwo' purple belly as a result.

But that self-destructive defeat didn't deter Shinx from growing stronger, not in the least. Shinx saw Mewtwo as a pillar of strength, knowledge, and motivation. Same goes for Xeno Lucario, but Shinx spends more time overall with Mewtwo, just as Duskull and Larvitar do. And Xeno has his own trio of Pokémon that he trains alongside with during his spare time: Aqua Lapras, Terra Garchomp, and Wanderer Lucario. All eight of them do meet up to train together, but that's only when their schedule in Team Rocket isn't keeping them busy.

Regardless, Shinx learns plenty from Mewtwo's encyclopedia of knowledge alongside Duskull and Larvitar as his training partners. For starters, the burden of VOLT TACKLE is far more bearable on adversaries that match his strength. Shinx could use the attack multiple times on them, and they knew how to either absorb it (Larvitar's Ground-Type attribute) or protect against it (Duskull's intangeability). Shinx didn't entirely have to worry about recoil either. His stamina is what he was working on training during these particular skirmishes.

The stamina…to be able to defeat Mewtwo in combat. That was his most powerful ambition and source of strength. That was the seed within his glass pride.

Date: January, 2011

Time: 2:45 PM

Further training has heightened Mewtwo's party of Pokémon into evolution. Each of them evolved into their mid-stage of growth: Duskull into Dusclops, Larvitar into Pupitar, and Shinx into Luxio. Each of them have learned new attacks, new abilities, new strengths, and new tactics to utilize in combat. Alongside that, they've also developed habits that have been saved into their muscle memory.

Luxio has learned to better control his electricity and can discharge more of it with greater ease. This has made his VOLT TACKLE attack even harm Pupitar, despite the Type Attribute immunity. However, Luxio appears to rely a bit heavily on this attack. This doesn't exactly make him predicable to Duskclops and Pupitar, as they both have learned to evade the attack instead of taking it head on or attempting to defend against it. But against Mewtwo, a Pokémon who can be 50 moves ahead of anyone, Luxio was terribly predictable.

Luxio would frequently rely on its Electric-Type attacks, its innate type, against Mewtwo. Mewtwo would hover around Luxio, being a moving target for attacks that most Pokémon would have difficulty avoiding or defending against, mostly because of the nature of lightning. Luxio would only be able to strike at Mewtwo half of the time, which is rather impressive in itself against his particular adversary. But the attacks that met their mark simply glided off of Mewtwo's overlapping psychic barriers.

Mewtwo eventually noticed that Luxio had worn himself out through prolonged Electric-Type attacks and was panting heavily. The Genetic Pokémon stood before Luxio, with crossed arms and a stoic countenance that seldom expresses any emotions.

" _There's more to a Pokémon's abilities than merely resorting to one's innate Pokémon Type Attribute._ " Mewtwo explained to the naïve Spark Pokémon. " _There's also more to combat than simply resorting to offensive attacks._ "

"What are you…talking about?" Luxio spoke between deep breaths.

" _In battle, Pokémon can use status afflictions to impede or their opponent. Prime examples for you include diminishing your opponents offensive capabilities through your Intimidate ability, petrifying them out of combat altogether with ROAR, or inflicting paralysis to slow your adversaries movements or impede them altogether. And that's merely scratching the surface._ "

"That's not my style of fighting though." Luxio admitted. "You should know by now, after all of the training we've done together."

In response to this, Mewtwo closed his eyes and shook his head before Luxio.

" _Brute force_ alone _isn't enough to claim victory in battle._ " Mewtwo continued explaining. " _It may work for some Pokémon, but not all Pokémon. In your case, Electric-Type attacks don't work on Ground-Type Pokémon or Pokémon that can absorb Electric-Type attacks through abilities such as Lightning Rod and Volt Absorb._ "

"But they work on Pupitar." Luxio pointed out. "You've seen what a charred husk I can render him down to when I put in maximum effort."

" _When you put in_ wasted _effort._ " Mewtwo specified. " _Exploiting an adversary's weakness is an invaluable tactic in battle. In Pupitar's case, both Grass-Type and Water-Type attacks deal the most amount of damage to him. In my case, Bug-Type, Dark-Type, and Ghost-Type attacks. You may not possess any attacks that exploit Pupitar's most glaring weaknesses, but you do possess a couple of attacks to exploit mine._ "

"CRUNCH and SIGNAL BEAM?" Luxio recalled, off of the top of his head.

" _Yes._ " Mewtwo has easily kept track of the move pool of his party of Pokémon alongside those of his friends. Xeno Lucario in particular, because of how astonishing it is for an Aura Pokémon to seemingly be able to learn every single Pokémon technique just by glancing over them. " _And you also possess the MAGNET RISE technique, which negates your one and only weakness._ "

"And what do you possess to negate your own weaknesses?" Luxio was curious and wished to learn how to defeat Mewtwo, straight from the source.

" _A wide assortment of attacks that combat Pokémon that possess the Type Attributes that I'm most vulnerable too, alongside an equally wide plethora of defensive and supportive techniques that render them at my mercy. You've only seen a small fraction of what I can do._ "

"Is it possible for _anyone_ to defeat you then?" Luxio wanted an answer to this question as badly as he wanted victory against Mewtwo.

" _Yes, albeit unlikely._ " Mewtwo believed. " _So far, only Xeno has the highest chance of defeating me, mostly because of his diverse repertoire of attacks and techniques. But I don't know for certain because we hardly ever spar together, and I've never fought alongside him or_ against _him before._ "

"Do you think it's possible for _me_ to defeat you?" Luxio wondered, a hint of audacity in his tone of voice.

" _Yes. But only by working together with your friends and allies._ " Mewtwo strongly believed. " _You'll never be able to defeat me by yourself, regardless of how much training I put into you, how many skills you learn and how many tactics I teach you. You'll stand a better chance against me when you have a supporting and unified party of Pokémon against me._ "

"So it's only a matter of time until _we_ defeat you!" Luxio exclaimed euphorically.

" _Or successfully draw blood from me. By then, I'll feel like you and our friends have learned enough from me._ "

* * *

Location: Team Rocket Main Headquarters (Outskirts)

Date: May, 2011

Time: 3:01 PM

With the trio of Pokémon that Mewtwo has been training under his guidance and supervision having fully evolved into Dusknoir, Luxray, and Tyranitar, all three of them prove to be far more powerful than Mewtwo originally expected.

First and foremost, Dusknoir is a Ghost-Type Pokémon and has an edge against Mewtwo's Psychic-Type. Not only that, but Dusknoir has picked up a technique that was originally mistaken for PHANTOM FORCE, but turns out to be something greater, something that only Giratina was thought to know. This technique, SHADOW FORCE, is barrier piercing. Therefore, Mewtwo (alongside anyone else misfortunate enough to fight him), has learned that evasion is the primary means of avoiding damage from that particular attack.

Tyranitar has cast aside his Ground-Type Attribute in favor of the Dark-Type. Doing so has given him immunity to Psychic-Type attacks. As a result, for Mewtwo to strike at Tyranitar with his innate telekinetic abilities, the use of MIRACLE EYE is mandatory. That being said, Tyranitar is a brute, constantly threatening to demolish the battlefield alongside his given adversaries. This in particular has made their training schedule best suited outside rather than inside. Of course, a mountain or two has given way to Tyranitar's sometimes destructive power.

Luxray's control of electricity has reached almost divine levels. If the opportunity presents itself, Luxray could enter a storm cloud and absorb all of the electricity within it, harnessing its thunder and unleashing it as he best sees fit. In doing so, Luxray's fur gleams more golden than it initially lets on. But because there aren't any thunderstorms in this particular area, and they don't have the luxury of training nearby one, Luxray will simply have to make do with his own power, which suits him just fine.

At the moment, all three of them are facing off against Mewtwo. And Mewtwo, in response to all three of their heightened experience, strength, and teamwork, is forced to unleash most of his power against them. This involves teleportation, elemental attacks, status afflictions, telekinesis, just to name a few.

" _All three of you have come a long way since Xeno wished for me to make a party of Pokémon of my own. I'm truly proud of your growth._ " Mewtwo told the three of them, as they had surrounded the Genetic Pokémon. " _But you three are still years away from defeating me. And my knowledge grows by the day, at a rate that you'll never catch up to._ "

" _We don't have to defeat you._ " Dusknoir believed, before crossing his arms and sinking into the shadows.

"We just have to make you bleed." Tyranitar said before punching the earth with both arms, pulling off two slabs of earth that would serve as a pair of STONE EDGE attacks.

"That's all that matters to us right now." Luxray believed, having wanted this for under a year now. "And we'll do it through teamwork."

 _Battle! (Mewtwo)/Pokémon X & Pokémon Y: Super Music Collection (Disc 4)/Junichi Masuda_

 _(Song Begins)_

Dusknoir appeared directly behind Mewtwo, through its shadow, and attempted to grasp the Genetic Pokémon. Mewtwo allowed it and briefly felt Dusknoir's surprisingly powerful physical strength squeezing his body before using TELEPORT to escape his grasp. But when Mewtwo reappeared a few hundred feet away, Tyranitar was the first to notice Mewtwo's location.

Wielding two slabs of rock as large as himself like a pair of tonfas and with the expertise of a Gallade, Tyranitar rampaged straight towards Mewtwo, fully intent on obliterating the Genetic Pokémon with the power of a mountain, and also fully aware that Mewtwo literally has _hundreds_ of means to dispose of this tactic.

Mewtwo nimbly evaded each and every broad swing of these rock weapons, feeling the gales generated by each mighty swing across his nearly nonexistent fur coat. Then, as Tyranitar was going to bring both STONE EDGE attacks crashing down onto his head, he grasped them both with his bare hands, stopping them dead by reinforcing his physical strength with his non-physical psychic power.

This resulted in the ground spontaneously crumbling from the resulting force being carried over straight down.

"How do you do that, Mewtwo?" Tyranitar said with greater curiosity than frustration. "How do you put super strength into that scrawny body of yours?"

" _It's easier than you think,_ " Mewtwo stated simply before he snapped both of Tyranitar's STONE EDGE attacks in half with a simple turn of the wrist. The torque of it, reinforced by an intimidating amount of psychic power, cast both STONE EDGE slabs aside when Mewtwo tossed them a few dozen feet away. " _However, you're incapable of learning Psychic-Type attacks. No offense._ "

"None taken. That kind of mental gymnastics cramps my style anyway." Tyranitar said before jumping back from Mewtwo, relinquishing the broken halves of his failed STONE EDGE attacks, much to the ground's displeasure as it released plumes of dirt and dust when they crashed. "Besides, why would I want to shake the earth with my mind when I'm strong enough to do so with my fists?!"

A pair of mighty punches straight down into the earth between Tyranitar's feet unleashed an EARTHQUAKE that Mewtwo levitated over to evade entirely. And because of the nature of the attack, Tyranitar's EARTHQUAKE spread out in all directions, forcing Dusknoir to disappear into the shadows via SHADOW FORCE and for Luxray to levitate via MAGNET RISE. And as Tyranitar's attack was still rolling about the area, Luxray matched Mewtwo's ability to levitate with his present ability to levitate through electromagnetism.

Mewtwo narrowly avoided having his tail pierced by hovering sideways and away from Luxray as he used THUNDER FANG.

"Hold still, you oversized pussy!" Luxray spoke through the crackling electricity emanating from his teeth. "Let me bite you!"

" _You know I won't allow it._ " Mewtwo said as he avoided Luxray's persistent fangs every second. " _I'll just turn your own power against you…_ "

Dusknoir reappeared via SHADOW FORCE and attempted to throw a punch at the back of Mewtwo's head. But without even looking back at the Gripper Pokémon to determine his presence, Mewtwo caught the punch with his right hand, and then implemented his psychic power to toss Dusknoir directly into the path of Luxray's trigger-happy THUNDER FANG. This resulted in Dusknoir's fist getting punctured and succumbing to paralysis.

" _Or against your friends and allies._ "

With the Gleam Eyes Pokémon apologizing and tending to the Gripper Pokémon for the time being, Tyranitar attacked Mewtwo from a distance through DARK PULSE attack. Mewtwo saw these dark chains of energy flying straight towards him and flew up to avoid them.

" _Using your innate Pokémon Type Attribute to exploit one of three weaknesses a Psychic-Type Pokémon possesses._ " Mewtwo told Tyranitar as he noticed Tyranitar maintaining the attack and having it come close to striking the Genetic Pokémon's tail with it. " _You have learned something after all._ "

At the moment, Tyranitar was too focused on prolonging the attack and attempting to match Mewtwo's flight speed with the general direction his body and attack was facing. But the longer he kept up his DARK PULSE, the farther Mewtwo flew away from it, until Mewtwo ended this façade and sharply flew directly behind Tyranitar, diving down to the earth and practically lacerating it with the AURA SPHERE he held in his right hand.

Tyranitar used PROTECT a split-second after noticing Mewtwo behind him and took the attack just in time. And instead of succumbing to the AURA SPHERE, he was sent flying while within his barrier, spiraling within his little bubble until he fell back down onto the ground face first and on all fours.

Whether or not Tyranitar intended to work as a team or not, it gave Dusknoir and Luxray more than enough time to recover from their friendly fire. And as retribution towards Mewtwo for forcing him into Luxray's path of attack, Dusknoir manifested his psychic energy within himself before unleashing it across the entire area.

Mewtwo quickly noticed that the area that all four of them were currently sparring in was encased in a transparent, prismatic cube of energy. And those that were within this area succumbed to some topsy-turvy events.

" _…TRICK ROOM. Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant._ " Mewtwo easily identified. " _My speed in combat dwarves all of yours. And now you made me the slowest Pokémon in this battle._ "

It was at this moment that Mewtwo merely crossed his arms, closed his eyes, and appeared to contemplate.

"(They just might be able to inflict significant damage on me, if they work well enough together.)"

When Mewtwo opened his eyes, he found all three of his pupils surrounding him in a triangular formation once again. And without giving Mewtwo any freedom for evasion, all three Pokémon unleashed some of their strongest projectile attacks in unison. Dusknoir used SHADOW BALL, Luxray launched THUNDER, and Tyranitar fired HYPER BEAM.

Mewtwo used PROTECT to endure against all three attacks, causing SHADOW BALL to deflate before disappearing in a puff of smoke, and causing HYPER BEAM and THUNDER to wrap around his barrier and cancel each other out in an odd display of blending energy. And while Tyranitar needed a moment to recharge after using such a powerful attack, Dusknoir and Luxray didn't.

Through the reversed nature of the TRICK ROOM, they were already behind Mewtwo and within reach of the Genetic Pokémon. Dusknoir cocked his right arm back for a SHADOW PUNCH and Luxray's body conducted a weaker albeit more accurate form of electricity through SHOCK WAVE. Both attacks would certainly hit their mark if Mewtwo decided to avoid them, and may hit if Mewtwo's use of PROTECT fails from repeated use.

Instead, Mewtwo held both of them in place through TELEKINESIS, effectively immobilizing them in mid-air. And when Tyranitar responded to this by running straight towards Mewtwo, the Genetic Pokémon maintained a masterful poker face by waggling his finger towards the incoming Armor Pokémon. By using METRONOME, a random move would be accessible for Mewtwo to use in its place, regardless of its nature and of his ability to properly use it or not.

Luck was in Mewtwo's favor, as the use of METRONOME allowed him to use HYPNOSIS, forcing Tyranitar to see a blurred perspective of Mewtwo and his two allies before toppling over fast asleep.

"Tyranitar!" Luxray shouted, knowing that Tyranitar could break them free of this, but not if he was asleep.

Luckily for Luxray, there was one move in his arsenal that could wake Tyranitar up.

Unable to move away but still able to discharge electricity, Luxray unleashed bolts of lightning straight down onto the ground. The battlefield began to glow yellow as a result, invigorated from Luxray's use of ELECTRO TERRAIN. As a result, not only did Tyranitar awaken in a heartbeat, but Luxray's Electric-Type attacks were now 50% more powerful.

Reawakened and resetting where he last left off, Tyranitar continued charging towards an impressed Mewtwo and became encased in a spiraling torrent of pure energy. The brutal aura that came from using GIGA IMPACT, alongside Tyranitar's immunity to Psychic-Type attacks would protect him from Mewtwo, and the Genetic Pokémon knew that.

Which is why he was forced to TELEPORT away from harm, disengaging his use of TELEKINESIS and freeing both Dusknoir and Luxray.

" _Tyranitar and I will hold Mewtwo off._ " Dusknoir began to strategize. " _Prepare yourself to strike at Mewtwo with your strongest attack._ "

"And I'll attack with VOLT TACKLE when my chance arrives." Luxray smirked at the thought.

With that, Dusknoir used SHADOW SNEAK to disappear into the shadows, leaving Luxray to begin to CHARGE up for one final Electric-Type attack, the power of which will already be amplified further by the effects of ELECTRIC TERRAIN.

Mewtwo reappeared directly behind a fatigued Tyranitar, once the Armor Pokémon had stopped using GIGA IMPACT. And much like before, Mewtwo wished to strike at Tyranitar with AURA SPHERE, especially with how vulnerable he was after using such a demanding attack so recklessly.

But at the same time that Mewtwo fired the attack, Dusknoir's shadow maneuvered itself between the pair. The Gripper Pokémon immediately rose from his own shadow and intercepted the attack by swatting it away with a backhand of his left hand. The attack was harmlessly redirected skyward, where it fizzled out of existence.

"Thanks for being my meat shield, Dusknoir!" Tyranitar was thankful in his own blunt way. "Although, you're a Ghost-Type Pokémon, meaning you're not made of meat, which is technically another word for flesh…and bone…and blo–what are you even made of anyway?"

" _Focus, Tyranitar._ " Dusknoir realigned Tyranitar's attention. " _We ust-may istract-day ewtwo-May ile-whay uxray-Lay is eparing-pray is-hay OLT-VAY ACKLE-TAY attack-way._ "

"…The fuck did you just say to me?" Tyranitar felt offended by Dusknoir's apparent twaddle.

" _Dusknoir said for you and him to distract me while Luxray is preparing his VOLT TACKLE attack._ " Mewtwo deadpanned as he seemingly always deadpanned.

"…" Naturally, both Dusknoir and Tyranitar felt their hearts drop upon hearing this.

Luxray didn't appear the least bit unnerved however as he was still gathering up electricity for one mighty final attack, most likely because all he could hear at the moment was the eye of the storm.

" _Seriously, I can see Luxray adjacent of us._ " Mewtwo pointed a finger towards the unsuspecting and focusing Gleam Eyes Pokémon. " _And what I can't see, I can read the minds of if I choose to. But for now, I'm not choosing to._ "

That last sentence didn't exactly make Dusknoir and Tyranitar feel any more hopeful. It just meant that they felt mind-raped. The question is, when _did_ Mewtwo peep into their minds, and how frequently?

" _In fact, I humbly welcome that final attack._ " Mewtwo admitted. " _But for now, try to impede me to the best of your ability for Luxray to deal the final blow. I'm only going to give you both each one chance before I retaliate with prejudice._ "

With crossed arms, Mewtwo waited for Dusknoir's and Tyranitar's next move. And upon seeing both briefly look at each other and nod before returning their gaze on him, Mewtwo believed them to be confident to the point of pulling this off.

Tyranitar used SANDSTORM, causing all of the black holes across his somewhat perplexing body to gush out sand and instantly cloud the view of everyone in the battlefield. Mewtwo didn't move as the world around him disappeared in a plume of buffeting brown, nor did he blink when he felt pieces of stone as large as his digits bump over his body, mostly because he had already erected a thin BARRIER over himself to absorb the damage.

…But he did blink in surprise when he noticed the sandstorm appear to settle down and sink a bit too prematurely. Then, he felt his entire body pull down under the force of GRAVITY, feeling himself drop to his hand and knees as his somewhat scrawny physical build began to feel as if it weighs ten times more than it normally should.

" _Tyranitar…_ " Mewtwo telepathically called out to the Armor Pokémon, just as his being began to emerge from the spiraling SANDSTORM. " _You veiled Dusknoir from my sight so that he could increase the strength of the surrounding GRAVITY around me._ "

Tyranitar became clear enough to Mewtwo where he could see the Armor Pokémon's serious countenance convert itself into a satisfied smirk. And even though Tyranitar was a Dark-Type Pokémon, the Psychic-Type nature of Dusknoir's GRAVITY still had a considerable effect on him. However, Tyranitar's physical strength is on par with that of a nuclear bunker. An increase in GRAVITY wouldn't have any particular effect on him unless he was standing on the surface of the sun, and that's assuming he can even resist the heat, light, and radiation emanating from it.

" _Ingenious…even though I can still sense Dusknoir's presence._ "

"Aw, shut up and _sense_ this already." Tyranitar said before cocking his right leg back for a devastating MEGA KICK attack.

Mewtwo glanced down at Tyranitar's right foot before conjuring PROTECT over himself. The attack wouldn't deal any direct damage, but the sheer whiplash would definitely discombobulate him.

With a single kick, Tyranitar essentially punted Mewtwo, PROTECT and all. Mewtwo flew hundreds of feet into the air and dozens of feet away, an impressive feat in itself considering how much Mewtwo naturally weighs, as well as how much _more_ Mewtwo weighed while within Dusknoir's amplified GRAVITY zone.

Sure enough, Mewtwo bounced a few times within his PROTECT bubble as it rose and then began to fall back down to earth. And instead of contemplating disengaging the technique, Mewtwo prolonged it. The reason for that was the incoming Gleam Eyes Pokémon, emanating enough electricity across his entire body to power a city, all from the VOLT TACKLE technique that emblazoned and cloaked his entire body, as if he had just been struck by a lightning bolt from the heavens themselves.

Mewtwo saw this dazzling sight instead of flying up and away, where Luxray couldn't hope to reach no matter how high he jumps. Luxray sped straight towards him like a bullet, as if attempting to make the winning catch. But instead of catching Mewtwo, Luxray wished to tackle him, with everything he's got.

And sure enough, as Mewtwo was about to hit the ground, Luxray successfully does just that. And to his luck, Mewtwo's PROTECT attack fails from enduring a second attack, shattering like glass and bending Mewtwo's body uncomfortably around the spear-like shape of the attack. And when Luxray hit the brakes after his critical hit by skidding to a stop, Mewtwo kept on going, his backside crashing and embedding halfway into the wall of a nearby cliff before the snow above it fell over his body.

 _(Song Ends)_

Luxray felt as though every single volt of his body had just been expelled in a single instance, and nearly passed out from the sheer amount of energy he just exerted. But fortunately for him, Dusknoir had his back by literally holding onto his back, and then holding the oversized feline like a pet in his arms.

"Oh…my body feels…numb from the pain…" Luxray said, feeling even his jaws ache as he spoke. "But I can live…with it…if it means…doing that…to Mewtwo…after so much training..."

" _Do you suppose it was a tad bit excessive?_ " Dusknoir contemplated, growing more concerned by the second at seeing Mewtwo still remain within the snow without showing any signs of life. " _He is our friend and teacher after all._ "

"Perhaps," Tyranitar said as he walked up towards them and stopped beside them. "But the end result of all of that training was _cathartic_ , wouldn't you say?"

" _I couldn't agree more._ "

Three hearts skipped beats when five eyes about-faced to see Mewtwo standing directly behind them. And before they could question if the Pokémon buried under the snow was bona fide or a SUBSTITUTE, Mewtwo clearly carried some damage over his body. Nothing externally, but a fair amount internally, enough so that blood was seeping out of his lips. Alongside that, his body was just as numb as Luxray's, but from the secondary effects of VOLT TACKLE paralyzing his entire body.

The fact that Mewtwo was still standing was a testament to the strength of a genetically enhanced Legendary Pokémon. The fact that he didn't appear angry at his teammates was even more so. And the fact that he quickly used REFRESH and RECOVER in tandem to completely erase all of their hard work was outright discombobulating.

" _Great job, all of you._ " Mewtwo said before wiping the blood from his mouth with his fingers. " _The day for Xeno to escape with all of you draws near. And with how much stronger you've become, he'll have some comfort upon learning of your newfound strengths._ "

* * *

"Leadership is practiced not so much in words as in attitude and in actions." —Harold Geneen


	10. Diverging Chapter 10

**Diverging Chapter 10: Metagross' Pursuit of Knowledge**

Location: Canalave City

Date: ?

Time: Night

The time period is during Team Liberator, back when Metagross was a Metang that freshly evolved from a Beldum.

During this particular day in their makeshift organization of thirteen Pokémon, Metang was paired up with Tyranitar to release Pokémon around the area, around Iron Island in particular.

"Tell me, Metang." Tyranitar began to boast with raised arms as they both walked down Canalave City's trademark bridge. "Can you swim, or would you sink like a stone?"

" _Based on my weight and overall metallic density, I'd most likely sink like a stone._ " Metang said with a vocabulary that properly reflected his recent ascension, before sensing Tyranitar's boasting. " _And you're only telling me this because you no longer do._ "

"I tell you, there's nothing more satisfying than hanging six and flipping two as I SURF past the locals of this place." Tyranitar spoke conceitedly. "The look people and Pokémon alike give me, as they see me defying the laws of physics, brings about a greater satisfaction than crushing them under my feet or with a slab of solid rock."

" _You're still as brutish as always, Tyranitar._ " Metang commented, having spent more than enough time with Tyranitar to determine this. " _Our trip to the Canalave Library will do us_ both _good in expanding our intellect._ "

"Tch, do we have to go there?" Tyranitar's arms dropped and he groaned like an oversized child.

" _Yes._ " Metang reminded the Armor Pokémon. " _Xeno's orders. He feels as though a Pokémon such as yourself will better manipulate his own physical strength if he takes the time to learn a new tactic or two._ "

"…" Tyranitar wasn't sure if Metang was discreetly insulting him or not, or if Xeno was calling him stupid. But even _he_ knew that learning new ways to kill others in combat would ultimately keep him from growing bored. "I suppose throwing rocks and chains of darkness does get tedious after a while, especially when most opponents I face can barely graze me."

" _…That's the spirit?_ " Metang responded hesitantly, before turning his gaze over to the library near the end of the bridge.

* * *

Location: Canalave City (Canalave Library)

Upon reaching Canalave Library this late at night, both Pokémon proceeded to the door, Tyranitar expecting it to be open. But after forcefully jittering the door to the point of nearly breaking off its knob, Tyranitar came to a dexterous conclusion.

"…Locked." Tyranitar uttered before about-facing, stepping back a few feet, then turning around with battering intent. "Oh well. Shit happens. I just hope the owner of this building has Tyranitar insurance!"

Tyranitar was two steps away from charging forward and breaking the pair of doors like an oversized toothpick, only for Metang to step between the two of them and unlock the doors by manipulating the tumblers of the doorknob with a telekinetic key. Then, Metang psychically peered in further and pressed a button to turn off the alarm system. And if there was a surveillance system, then Metang would've taken a bit longer than a single second.

"You're no fun…"

" _That can't be helped when our opinions of fun differ._ " Metang retorted.

With the door open, and almost all of the local residents going to sleep for the night, both Metang and Tyranitar entered Canalave Library and closed the doors behind them without arousing any suspicion towards themselves. Once inside, the hundreds of visible shelves and tens of thousands of hardcover books lining them greatly deterred Tyranitar, while making Metang barely contain its excitement for knowledge.

"You do realize that you can lead a Rapidash to water, but you can't make it drink from it." Tyranitar analogized. "None of these books look appealing to me, based on what I'm judging from their covers."

" _Ah, that old saying…_ " Metang silently uttered to itself before hovering over towards the Armor Pokémon. " _I suppose it's difficult to change the ways of a brutish Pokémon. And I don't expect you to change overnight either, not during this night anyway._ "

As a joke, Metang hovered over to the children's section of this library, telekinetically grasped the first dozen books that appeared the most colorful, and then brought them over towards Tyranitar before dropping them in its hands. The first book of this pile was titled _The Very Hungry Caterpie_ and had a few holes in it that were completely intentional for the sake of its "story".

"Here, read these." Metang said with a perfect poker face. "Perhaps you'll learn a few battle strategies or information regarding potential enemies from the…detailed illustrations."

Without recognizing Metang's joke about him being given children's books to read instead of books intended for a more intelligent audience, Tyranitar gingerly pried the surprisingly durable book's cover open and began to read. Or, because of the nature of _The Very Hungry Caterpie_ , look over its illustrations and read the words that accompany it.

With Tyranitar occupied by Metang's joke, the Iron Arm Pokémon grew more serious about which books would best suit Tyranitar. It hovered over towards a couple of different corners of the Canalave Library before stopping at a section that held numerous books regarding martial arts that humans knew. Metang telekinetically seized a few of them and opened up their covers simultaneously, glancing over the paragraphs of information that accompanied each necessary illustration.

"(Now these are appropriate books for Tyranitar to read.)" Metang contemplated before closing them, stacking them over one another, and hovering back towards Tyranitar. " _Tyranitar? I found you a few books that I'm confident you're going t–_ "

"Damn! That Caterpie can _eat_!" Tyranitar said out loud to Metang before closing the book and casually setting it aside. "Fruits, vegetables, meats, and even that human food. I can only imagine the size of the Butterfree it evolved into."

With that, Tyranitar seemingly ignored Metang's presence and retrieved another children's book to read. This one was titled _The Giving Trevenant_ and depicted a gargantuan Trevenant that would continue to give pieces of itself until it could no longer give.

Through stunned silence, it became clear to Metang that Tyranitar didn't recognize Metang's joke–a poor excuse at humor at best–and was invested in those children's books that the Iron Leg Pokémon brought him. Metang simply returned to where it found those martial arts books, put them back in their original place, and began to hover upstairs.

"(…Well, at least he's occupied.)" Metang looked on the bright side. "(Otherwise, he'd probably attempt to tear this place down by running through walls, just to occupy himself. And I don't want that, mostly because I'm not yet strong enough to stop him when he attacks with reckless abandon.)"

* * *

There's a reason that humans rule this world and not Pokémon, even though Pokémon technically _created_ it. Their pursuit of knowledge has allowed them to document their findings, exploit new possibilities and harness new powers. Their adaptability and dexterity astonishingly overpowers a Pokémon's abilities and instincts in multiple ways, but not enough where humans completely overpower Pokémon.

This is why humans and Pokémon coexist harmoniously for the most part, when there isn't some criminal syndicate attempting to make a profit from the blood of other Pokémon, or a one-in-a-million Pokémon that feels as though humans must pay for their sins. Metang knows this all too well, and knows that humans are mostly good and supporting individuals. The time that both it and Combusken, back as a Beldum and Torchic, spent in their infancy at a Hoenn Day Care allowed them to experience this firsthand…for however long it lasted.

But the question in Metang's mind is _how_ that came to be? How did humanity and Pokémon come to coexist? And assuming that Metang can answer those nagging questions, there are others that it hopes that Canalave Library can answer for it. How did humans come to be, when only Pokémon existed since the beginning of time? What do humans eat? How far are humans willing to bond with Pokémon?

All of the question in Metang's mind regarded humanity, mostly because Metang hasn't lived alongside people in years, not since it and Torchic left the Pokémon Day Care after their loving caretakers were killed by a couple of rogue Pokémon. And luckily for Metang, the Canalave Library not only held books to answer those specific questions, but held them in a designated area of one of its rooms.

MYTHOLOGY

* * *

Long ago, when Sinnoh had just been made, Pokémon and humans led separate lives.

That is not to say they did not help each other.

No, indeed they did.

They supplied each other with good, and supported each other.

A Pokémon proposed to the others to always be ready to help humans.

It asked that Pokémon be ready to appear before humans always.

Thus, to this day, Pokémon appear to us if we venture into tall grass.

From the book titled _Sinnoh Region's Mythology_ , the first inklings of how man and Pokémon learned to coexist likely began with what this myth is describing. But Metang knew that this brief story was a myth at best, because no human really knows when Pokémon began to appear before them. It could've happened to one solitary and exceptional human individual, or it could've spontaneously happened to thousands across the world. There's no decisive proof on the matter, but the important thing is that it happened not _just_ in Sinnoh, but across the entire world.

In fact, some wild Pokémon, according to what humans have learned from them, behave differently towards humans whenever their paths would cross.

Regardless of gender, size, species, personality, and rarity, plenty of Pokémon plainly hate humans, willing to do away with them with whatever powers they possess. Other Pokémon behave territorially, not just to humanity. Some Pokémon appear to tolerate humans well enough to the point where they're willing to assist them at times or even ride on them. And then there are Pokémon that just plain love humans, always willing to assist them and will happily bond with one the first chance that they get. Appearances can be a strong giveaway towards how Pokémon will behave towards humans, but they shouldn't be relied upon. Because even the most monstrous of Pokémon have gentle hearts.

"(Not only that, but many Pokémon have come to learn how to speak their language, be it from their own mouths or through telepathy, such as myself.)" Metang contemplated further, knowing his mental prowess and also knowing that it'll only increase further when the day comes for it to evolve into a Metagross.

Metang was unsure of how humans and Pokémon lived before they intertwined their destinies. Perhaps they only met when it came to food or territory, or offense and defense. But ever since meeting, they've interacted with one another in ways that support them both. Humans rely on a Pokémon's strength and abilities for a multitude of tasks that would either be impossible for them or far too time and energy consuming. Pokémon rely on a human's willpower to grow more powerful in ways that they never knew they could, even evolving and _Mega Evolving_ through means that they never knew they could, such as through evolutionary items/stones, trading, friendship, etc.

Overall, good came from human and Pokémon working alongside each other. The proof of that is the Pokémon Trainer and why that lifestyle is so heavily desired by children before 10 years old and accepted as a way of life, no matter how long it takes or how invested they become.

"(There are evil humans _and_ evil Pokémon.)" Metang concluded. "(It is easy for one species to neglect that.)"

Metang put the book away and pulls out another one, a larger book titled _Sinnoh Folk Tales_. Upon opening the book, Metang psychically skimmed through the pages to get to those pertaining to its interests. And sure enough, Metang immediately found another short story, pertaining to Pokémon as human consumption.

Pick clean the bones of Pokémon caught in the sea or stream.

Thank them for the meals they provide, and pick their bones clean.

When the bones are as clean as can be, set them free in the water from which they came.

The Pokémon will return, fully fleshed, and it begins anew.

It is a known fact to Metang that there are no other major species on this planet than humans and Pokémon. And as a result, humans don't just raise Pokémon, they also devour them. There are people that hunt Pokémon for sport and sustenance, using rifles or other Pokémon to take down what is considered to be big game. There are people that raise a herd of bovine-like Pokémon, such as Tauros and Miltank, for milk and beef consumption. There are also people that fish commercially, regardless of the dangers of the high seas. And for the most part, people do this with maximum efficiency.

Nevertheless, Metang also knows that people can get a bit overzealous with their hunting and Pokémon food consumption. Aqua Lapras is living proof that her numbers are dwindling in the wild. Luckily for her, most of the people that capture her species are just as gentle and loving as the Lapras themselves. And the Lapras commonly do so out of their own free will, after bonding with their human partners by ferrying them across any given body of water. So if the Lapras disappear from the oceans, humans will help them get back there. All of the "Perfect IV Breeding" helps out with that, to a degree.

But Metang was digressing here and ignoring the topic of reincarnation with this first folk story.

"(No human or Pokémon has ever seen a Pokémon regenerate from the bones of their picked carcass, but many do exercise this practice with the belief that they do reincarnate.)" Metang contemplated. "(Whether reincarnation happens is still one of life's greatest mysteries that Arceus likely holds the answers to, and this mythology doesn't give me the answers I seek. In fact, it just leaves me questions if the bones being returned to the ocean are recycled in some way by other aquatic Pokémon for the next generation to benefit from.)"

Moving on, Metagross flips the pages and finds another short story of its interest.

There lived a Pokémon in a forest.

In the forest, the Pokémon shed its hide to sleep as a human.

Awakened, the human dons the Pokémon hide to roam villages.

Humans and Pokémon. Pokémon came into creation first and humans seemed to come into existence millions of years ago as a result of evolution. But what did humans evolve from? The only other species that resides in this world are Pokémon.

Is it possible then that humanity descended _from_ Pokémon? And if that's true, then are humans basically _Pokémon_? It's possible that humans branched off from ape-like Pokémon, such as Slaking, or any given humanoid Pokémon that best resembles them, such as Machoke.

In fact, there's actually strong evidence supporting this, now that Metang contemplated it.

"(Pokémon aren't _exclusively_ capable of supernatural feats. Some humans are capable of performing our abilities themselves.)" Metang pondered, going through a list that it memorized from the visor that makes up Xeno Lucario's battle armor. "(With enough discipline and experience, people have learned to harness incredible aural, physical, and psychic powers. There are even reported cases of people using abilities and moves that only Pokémon should know. Some of these people can go toe-to-toe with Pokémon, and even win against them. And even if they don't know how to perform supernatural feats, there are some people that can endure far more damage than any reasonable human _ever_ should. I recall Xeno telling me of a pair of bumbling Team Rocket Grunts that have been struck with electricity and blasted into the skies _hundreds_ of times and have come out of it almost entirely unscathed. What were their names again…? Can't be bothered to recall that presently.)"

A few more flipped pages leads Metang to another short story that may or may not lead to a heated mental debate.

There once were Pokémon that became very close to humans.

There once were humans and Pokémon that ate together at the same table.

It was a time when there existed no differences to distinguish the two.

It was clear to Metang that both people and Pokémon have diverse personalities. And those diverse personalities can influence the type of relationship a human and a Pokémon can have together.

This myth likely hints that the bond between human and Pokémon existed long before capturing, Poké Balls, and Pokémon Trainers became the staple of modern day. This myth may or may not imply that these bonds were forced, and that both races lived together harmoniously.

As to _how_ harmoniously the relationship between human and Pokémon was is left blissfully vague, forcing Metang to speculate once more.

"(It's no strange fact that humans and Pokémon can dine together, or eat the same food. But for there to exist no differences between human and Pokémon, is it possible that they _married_ one another?)" Metang contemplated, feeling no disgust over a plausible interspecies relationship topic. "(If that's the case, then what's the world's stance on humans and Pokémon having sexual relations with each other? Is it welcomed? is it frowned upon? Is it done in secret, such as when a Pokémon Trainer relaxes with his/her partner Pokémon by the campfire at night? And if so, what kind of Pokémon is it mostly performed with?)"

Metang is classified as a genderless Pokémon, and therefore had no adverse emotions over a subject that would easily make people and Pokémon alike blush in embarrassment. Metang approached and pondered this touchy subject analytically and professionally, like a gynecologist, before eventually letting it go.

"(Well, regardless of opinions and partner preferences, it's a subject that I have no business in intruding on. To each their own.)"

* * *

Satisfied with newfound knowledge, Metang no longer sees a point in being here. The Iron Arm Pokémon hovers down the steps and reunites with Tyranitar…only to find out that his inability to recognize Metang's earlier "joke" has made him read through half of the children's books by now.

Metang saw them scattered about in a pile. Outside of the two that Tyranitar read earlier, there was also _Brown Ursaring, Brown Ursaring, What do you See?;_ _James and the Giant Pecha Berry_ , _Delphox in Socks_ , _The Berenstain Beartics_ , and _Clifford the Big Red Arcanine_. Now Tyranitar was reading _If you Give a Pikachu a Cookie_ , and he appeared deathly invested into the book.

Without much warning, Metang telekinetically took all of these books and threw them back into their original shelves, and then dragged Tyranitar out of Canalave Library by grasping his tail and having him claw at the ground while dragging against it with his belly.

" _You were reading children's books all this time, Tyranitar._ " Metang explained as Tyranitar behaved childishly over a series of books that he has ingrained himself too deeply in. " _You're too old and even too_ smart _to be reading them._ "

"No! Let me go!" Tyranitar cried out as Metang began pulling him out of the entrance door. "I must know what happens to the Pikachu that wants a cookie! I feel like it's bad shit, man! Like a chain reaction that can mean the end of the world as we know it!"

"(…Dumbass.)" Metang rolled its eyes as it likely would drag Tyranitar back to Team Liberator.

* * *

"Properly, we should read for power. Man reading should be man intensely alive. The book should be a ball of light in one's hand." —Ezra Pound


	11. Diverging Chapter 11

**Diverging Chapter 11: Sceptile's Adventurer Days**

Location: Petalburg Forest

Date: ?

Time: ?

The time period is years before Xeno Lucario's birth. The location is within one of the famous forests of Hoenn, a region made popular for its abundant Bug-Type Pokémon and the starting point for many greenhorn Pokémon Trainers.

In this instance, the Petalburg Forest is the dawn of a particularly special Pokémon that would eventually rise and train Xeno Lucario into the absolute powerforce that he is today. That Pokémon, before he became a scarred Sceptile with one arm and a buster sword, is a Treecko.

This Treecko, born from an egg that was deliberately abandoned by his birthmother, was already hardwired instinctively to defend for himself. The tallest trees and their outstretched branches were his playground, as he leaped to and fro between them without fear and with inherent mastery. The fruits and seeds of these trees were abundant and provided a healthy and consistent source of sustenance for him, regardless of weather and neighboring Pokémon.

Overall, Treecko lived a peaceful life here. And as a result, Treecko soon realized that he was living a _boring_ life.

Treecko wasn't the only Wood Gecko Pokémon that lived in Petalburg Forest, and he also wasn't the only Pokémon that was born from an abandoned egg in a crudely made nest that was either high up in the trees, inside the tree's trunk, or lightly buried underneath a pile of composting feathers. But what differentiated _this_ Treecko from his local brethren was his longing for adventure, to see the broad expanses of the world beyond the relatively safe haven of this forest in Hoenn. The best he could do within this forest was climb up the tallest branch, and see where the sun rises and sets from.

All of the other Treecko didn't share this same desire unfortunately, mostly because they didn't see the point of leaving a biome that literally tends to their every need. They just saw it as a form of suicide. And unless they were captured by a Pokémon Trainer, be it willingly or reluctantly, they don't see the point of leaving Petalburg Forest.

Treecko came to these other Wood Gecko Pokémon, as well as the various other local wildlife of this jungle, asking them if they wished to accompany him. All of them refused, and some of them questioned why, unable to see what Treecko was seeing, refusing to imagine what Treecko was imagining.

As a result, during one particular day, Treecko simply gathered some food in a large piece of discarded cloth, carried it on a stick, and simply left Petalburg Forest altogether, without informing anyone or bringing anyone along with him. No one noticed Treecko taking his leave, nor did they really care. They just saw Treecko as a strange Pokémon that appeared to physically fit in, but not mentally fit in.

Their near unanimous thoughts were that Treecko was as good as dead, because nature seldom allows change to happen quickly.

* * *

As it turns out, the Pokémon in Petalburg Forest were simply afraid of change and leaving their comfort zone. What they initially saw as a negative by leaving Petalburg Forest was an absolute blessing and joy for Treecko.

Months passed as Treecko wandered about Hoenn. The little Wood Gecko Pokémon trekked across wide open grasslands, coastlines that led out towards oceans as far as the eye can see, caverns that demanded luminescence to navigate through, and swamplands that were seemingly always bombarded by heavy rain. Treecko even braved through Mt. Chimney and the deserts to the north of Mauville City, just because he could. They nearly killed him though, but he grew stronger as a result.

In navigating across his native region, Treecko formed a topographical map of Hoenn within his mind. If any other Pokémon ever encountered him and asked for directions, Treecko could literally draw them a map and explain their path to them, right down to how many trees are within the area.

And as Treecko traveled, he met new and unique Pokémon, Pokémon he never would've imagined if he continued living in Petalburg Forest. Some of them were friendly and a pleasure to trek alongside for a day or two before taking different paths. Others were hostile and belonged to the wild or under the ownership of a Pokémon Trainer that wanted to capture him.

Treecko always evaded Pokémon Trainers because he'd rather travel the world as his own boss. And after having a few run-ins with them, Treecko learned how to keep track of them, as well as what to look out for when one is approaching. And luckily for him, most of the Pokémon Trainers that he came across were absolute rookies, utilizing freshly captured Pokémon that only took a few hits at best before fainting, or Pokémon Trainers that ran out of Poké Balls because he was too nimble.

As a result, Treecko fighting other Pokémon granted him the necessary experience for evolution, and he soon found the world becoming larger for him upon evolving into a Grovyle.

As a Grovyle, he eventually realized that there were ways of accessing more areas of Hoenn than just the main island. There were ferry boats that mandatorily transported humans and Pokémon from one destination to another. And for the most part, Grovyle would get away with traveling on these as a stowaway. Although there were a few instances where Grovyle was forced to abandon ship when a few keen Pokémon Trainers realized that Grovyle didn't belong to anyone in particular and was therefore a "wild" Pokémon. And during those instances, Grovyle was thankful that he at least learned how to swim and that there was always rock formations and islands to touch down on before drowning or being eaten by the Sharpedo.

Overall, evolving from Treecko to Grovyle has greater pros than cons. Through evolution came maturity, heightened physical and special prowess, experience, and wisdom. But at the same time, Grovyle became a _bit_ more sought after by Pokémon Trainers and a bit more of a target for a few eager wild Pokémon. Also, a larger body means more sustenance to support it. Thankfully for Grovyle, not much more. Usually an extra Berry before bed and that was enough for a while.

As Grovyle explored the farthest corners of Hoenn, including Dewford Town, the Abandoned Ship, Mossdeep City, Sootopolis City, Pacifidlog Town, Evergrande City, and even Spear Pillar, the world of Hoenn around Grovyle incrementally began to dwindle in size and surprises. Outside of diving underwater, Grovyle didn't see much left of Hoenn that he hasn't seen after roaming about it at least a hundred times by now.

In short, Grovyle wanted to see more of this world. Grovyle wanted to see what lies _beyond_ Hoenn, beyond these oceans that seemingly offered no new land that was within reach without at least a few days worth of _manmade_ travel.

And the only way to do that was to hop onto the nearest ferry boat and see where it takes him.

* * *

Slateport City was where Grovyle knew had the largest concentration of boats, be they for transporting people through cruise liners such as the S.S. Anne and S.S. Tidal, or for transporting heavy and often imported cargo. But as a result, Grovyle also knew that this city had one of the greatest concentration of people within all of Hoenn.

Upon first sight of Slateport City, there were hundreds of large buildings no greater than ten stories in height, many of which were involved for ferries and cargo ships. There were open areas dedicated exclusively to swap meets and traveling merchants, perfect for purchasing exotic products due to the trade that relentlessly happens in Slateport City. There were also Pokémon Battle facilities that had special rules to them, which would prove to be a rewarding challenge for any aspiring or veteran Pokémon Trainer.

"(As long as I give the impression that I'm a captured Pokémon, I won't have to worry about the Pokémon Trainers of Slateport City trying to smack me with their Poké Balls.)" Grovyle contemplated, looking down on the bustling city from the roof of one of the tallest buildings in the middle of the city. "(But for that, I need a disguise, or a trinket that shows people that I'm not a wild Pokémon.)"

One of the benefits of being a forest-dwelling Pokémon that hops to and fro between trees at an almost unrivaled speed is the keen eyesight that is required. Grovyle's eyes narrowed down at the outdoor markets and swap meets happening nearby, his eyes precise enough to detect individual Berries that were waiting to be sold from half a kilometer away.

"(Scarves, hats, shoes…)" Grovyle noticed the thousands of articles of Pokémon Trainer merchandize, each emblazoned with bold colors and symbols that Grovyle has come to recognize over time. "(They're all too large for me. And those intended for kids won't agree with the shape of my body.)"

Grovyle looked elsewhere, at the accessory and toy sections of the outdoor plaza.

"(Water pistols, sports equipment, and…)" Grovyle's thoughts paused upon seeing a toy sword in a sheath, one of a dozen or so that were being sold by the minute. "(That'll do. People will get the impression that my 'Pokémon Trainer' is an expert swordsman and teaching me what he knows.)"

There was only one downside that Grovyle noticed, and wasn't enough of a gambler to attempt.

"(So many people in one area… If one even suspects that I'm a wild Pokémon, then I'm as good as captured.)" Grovyle withdraws away from the edge of the building and begins to pace across the roof, contemplating a plan to obtain what he needs in order to travel away from Hoenn and towards a brave new world. "(What must I do to get one of those toy swords?)"

After about a minute of pacing without any foolproof plan, Grovyle noticed a few shadows circling around each other on the roof. The shape of these shadows belonged to Flying-Type Pokémon that were abundant in Hoenn. And when Grovyle looked up, he immediately noticed a small collection of Wingull and even a few Pelipper flying overhead, most likely searching for scraps of food that were dropped by humans.

An idea came to Grovyle at the sight of them, and he didn't hesitate in putting a couple of his clawed fingers in his mouth to whistle at them. Grovyle repeated this gesture a few times until he managed to obtain the attention of at least one Pelipper, which was more than enough for Grovyle's ambition. The summoned Pelipper glided down from the skies and from its brethren before circling the roof that Grovyle stood on and landing just besides the Wood Gecko Pokémon.

"What do you want?" The Pelipper said in a woman's tone of voice, identifying her gender to Grovyle.

"I need your help." Grovyle said straightforwardly, before walking over towards the cloth on a stick that he's been carrying with him for so long, albeit having to replace it on multiple occasions for whatever reasons that spontaneously sprang up during his travels. He carried the makeshift sack by itself to the Water Bird Pokémon, before setting it down and untying it, revealing more than enough Berries to keep Pelipper contentedly full for today and tomorrow.

Pelipper stared at the fresh produce that Grovyle had gathered before coming here, and almost dove headfirst into it in order to scoop all of it within its bill. What stopped her from succumbing to her instincts was the plausibility that Grovyle would retaliate violently to a Pokémon with no patience and no negotiation skills.

"What do you want my help with?" Pelipper said, sounding rather eager.

"There's a toy sword in the plaza down there," Grovyle said, pointing in the appropriate direction. "I just need you to swoop down and scoop it up into your bill, and bring it back here. If you do so successfully, these Berries are yours and yours alone."

Pelipper looked up to notice that the other Wingull and Pelipper had flown off into a different corner of Slateport in search of food, leaving her as the only one to reap the possible rewards if she accomplishes her somewhat simple task. "May I ask why you can't do so yourself?"

"We're both wild Pokémon, but I'm considered rare and valuable to humans. They'll attempt to capture me unless I carry something on me that feigns capture." Grovyle continued speaking straightforwardly and truthfully.

Pelipper could've continued counter-arguing as to why Grovyle doesn't do so himself, when Pelipper could just as easily risk capture. But Grovyle did raise valid points about his species being exponentially rarer than hers. In fact, Pelipper hasn't seen another Grovyle, much less a Treecko and _especially_ a Sceptile, throughout her relatively young life. Also, she was hungry. Extremely hungry. The Berries that Grovyle was willing to bargain and negotiate with were delectable and fresh.

So in the end, with a honk and a nod, Pelipper took to the skies and straight towards the market place that Grovyle pointed to earlier. Grovyle immediately looked back over the corner of the roof and made himself prone to veil his body to the best of his ability from his high perch to any possible onlookers below.

Almost immediately, Grovyle watched in mild amazement at how easily Pelipper blended in with the crowd, almost as if she were a Kecleon that made itself (mostly) invisible through changing skin colors. Grovyle noticed Pelipper wasting no time in approaching the toy sword and plucking it with her massive bill before appearing to swallow it whole. Luckily for Pelipper, the toy sword was short enough to disappear completely within her bill, albeit did threaten to poke at the back of her throat.

A sword swallower she clearly _wasn't_ , once the merchant took notice of the troublesome Water Bird Pokémon. Grovyle saw as Pelipper was forcefully shooed from the store, thankfully never seeing Pelipper obtain the toy sword. But in doing so, Pelipper was spooked to the point of finding herself in the interesting position of partially gulping the toy sword and feeling the plastic rounded tip of its scabbard uncomfortably prod at her crop.

Grovyle anxiously watched as all hell broke loose in that particular area of the market plaza. Pelipper appearing to choke on the toy sword and a group of people thrown into a mild panic at the enormous Water Bird Pokémon flailing and crashing into their stands while uttering a strangled honking sound. Produce was knocked over by the dozens, clothing was upchucked into the wind, and feathers were shed as Pelipper eventually got airborne and flew back towards Grovyle before passing out on the roof.

Grovyle looked at the disarray that a seemingly simple pilfering favor had quickly escalated too. People were too busy cleaning, tending, and repairing their produce booths instead of focusing or caring where the Pelipper went or what she inadvertently did because of the actions of an oblivious albeit angry human merchant. No one even noticed the one product that was missing, that was stuck within Pelipper's throat.

"And they label _us_ as wild Pokémon…" Grovyle muttered before approaching the fainted Pelipper.

Fortunately for him, Pelipper wasn't dead and was still breathing albeit strangely because of the toy sword loosely inserted within her throat like a crude endotracheal tube. Grovyle couldn't thank her with words because she was unconscious, but she could thank her by removing the toy sword in its entirety from her throat and then putting in every single Berry inside her mouth…except for one Lum Berry which Grovyle decided to hold onto as a snack for later or in case of an emergency.

And with the toy sword now strapped onto his back, after having been wiped clean of saliva and traces of blood, Grovyle felt far more comfortable blending in with the people in order to reach the ferry.

* * *

The power of a toy sword that can't cut was more astonishing than Grovyle initially thought. Grovyle simply thought that it would make him look like he's practicing swordplay with his alleged Pokémon Trainer. But to the minds of most of the people and Pokémon that looked at him as he casually walked over towards the ferry, they didn't exactly see that. Instead, they saw a cool-looking Grovyle that appeared to belong to a Pokémon Trainer that specialized in Pokémon Contests, which was a big deal in Hoenn.

And luckily for Grovyle, these people and Pokémon were keeping their space and giving off rather pleasing looks to the Wood Gecko Pokémon, thinking he looked rather cute and/or fitting with a toy sword.

"(At least I'm not overdoing it, like a 'Cosplay' Pikachu or whatever people call it.)" Grovyle thought, having travelled the world enough times to pick up on what humans do to pass the time. "(Although having a real sword instead of this cheap toy would be nice. Maybe someday, or until I master LEAF BLADE. That still needs work.)"

Through the throng of people, Grovyle noticed a few boats by the harbor. Grovyle couldn't read English and therefore didn't know which boat travelled where. And as a result, Grovyle immediately homed in on the largest boat here, passing by a sign that read the words "SINNOH" in bold black font.

Grovyle immediately passed by both security and the admission clerk, likely because Pokémon ride free alongside their Pokémon Trainers or respective owners. But as Grovyle soon noticed from the way people and Pokémon were simultaneously entering the ship, the only way to get into the boat is to accompany one of these humans.

But how would he be able to do so without being captured? Which of these humans would Grovyle have to feign custody to?

In the end, Grovyle saw this relatively young boy with long green hair, accompanied by a robed man who was most likely his father, alongside a few other foreign Pokémon that were known as a Darmanitan, a Swoobat, and a Zoroark. And to Grovyle's knowledge, this boy couldn't possibly be old enough to be a Pokémon Trainer. Then again, there were kids younger than him that battle and catch Pokémon.

Just as this party of five was about to enter the cruise ship and hand over their tickets to the clerk, Grovyle merged himself with them to make the party total six, without stirring attention to himself, not even from those he's blending in with.

…Not yet anyway.

"Tickets please?" The cruise ship personnel demanded with an open hand.

The robed man handed over two tickets, one for adult admission and for child admission, based on how different both tickets appeared.

"Alright, and I trust these four Pokémon are alongside you?"

"… _Four_ Pokémon?" The robed man questioned before he and his son looked at their respective Pokémon, their eyes immediately targeting the Grovyle with a toy sword strapped on his back.

It was at this moment that a lesser Pokémon would lose its cool and begin to do one of many things, be they sweat or soil themselves or flee. But Grovyle wasn't one of those lesser Pokémon and maintained a perfect façade of being a part of this odd family. Grovyle even reinforced this assumption by approaching the boy with long, green hair and playfully stroking it with his claws, before "affectionately" leaning his head to the boy's chest, being only tall enough to reach that far.

This feign of affection almost became a legitimate one when Grovyle faintly fought the urge to resist the boy scratching the back of his head.

"Yes, four Pokémon." The boy said, accepting the Grovyle's presence as easily as that of his other three Pokémon, as they themselves did so harmoniously. "Right, dad?"

If his son didn't practically possess a sixth sense for Pokémon, then he would've asserted his authority as a father by shooing the Grovyle, regardless of its rarity. But because it appeared to be a wild Pokémon and saw something appealing about his son with the way it approached him, then who was he to deny this.

"Yes, Natural." Natural's father rolled with the change of facts. "Perhaps I need glasses or something."

And with that, Grovyle was on the cruise ship, his tactics in getting on a boat that would leave Hoenn worked flawlessly. The only thing that Grovyle needed to make certain of was where this ship was departing for, and he feels as though the Pokémon that Natural possesses may have some insight of this.

So when Natural and his father were getting used to their respective cabin before leaving their Pokémon in the room for a bit, the quartet of Pokémon began to speak amongst themselves, with the obvious question regarding acknowledging the Donphan in the room being the first.

"So, what brings you here today?" Darmanitan spoke first, his gruff tone of voice suggesting that he has the muscle to match in case brute force is necessary. "You're clearly not here because you saw something in our friend."

Grovyle was no liar, and felt no fear in regards to speaking the truth, not even against a plausible adversary that he can't hope to defeat in his present state. "Truthfully, I sensed nothing but a kind heart from him. But I only came here, on this cruise ship, to travel away from Hoenn."

"Why would you want to travel away from your native land?" The Swoobat said with a gentle, female tone of voice, the kind that seemed to match her fluffy demeanor and heart-shaped snout. "If I recall correctly, your evolutionary line are native to Hoenn."

"I've been asked that question far too many times to count." Grovyle recalled as far back as Petalburg Forest to confirm this. "And my answer has always been the same. I long for adventure and to broaden my sights across the world."

"You don't even know where this ship is going." Zoroark spoke with an experienced albeit young male voice, the kind that signifies wisdom superseding age. "You probably don't know how to read either."

"Do _you_?" Grovyle automatically asked this Zoroark.

Zoroark nodded, just as Darmanitan and Swoobat did as well, much to Grovyle's surprise. "We all do. Natural taught us how to, alongside mathematics. He's a brilliant child and we love him just as much as he loves us."

"He sounds like a special human kid then." Grovyle spoke the truth, albeit had a bit of a sharp tongue at times as a result. "Most of them that I've come across during my travels have wanted to keep me inside Poké Balls. I'm only against the notion of traveling with humans and benefiting from it because I prefer to travel where _I_ want to go, to grow stronger through _my_ own means, to make friends as _I_ come across them."

"So you're basically a little Tynamo that felt like latching on to us for a free ride?" Darmanitan strongly believed.

"For the most part." Grovyle wasn't at all intimidated by the brazen Blazing Pokémon.

"Well, at least your honest." Swoobat was quite content with that. "And you're harmless too. I can tell just by looking at you and sensing your superficial thoughts."

Grovyle couldn't help but feel an invasion of his privacy from the relaxed Courting Pokémon. And the only think keeping him from clutching his head out of fear or panic was how well the four of them were already getting along.

"Because of that, we'll tell you what we know, and teach you what we can if you wish. I'd recommend it too." Zoroark said, sensing similar qualities from Grovyle as Swoobat and Darmanitan were. "You're stuck with us for at least a few months now, give or take a week. So if your plan was long distance travel, you lucked out."

Grovyle almost exploded in excitement at how long this boat would take to travel from one place to another. It meant that the distance was quite far, especially in comparison to boat that Grovyle has stowed himself away in over time, with each ride seldom lasting for more than a couple of days.

"So what ship am I riding on?" Grovyle asked.

"You're on the Recensere." Darmanitan said.

"It's Latin for 'Change'," Swoobat added.

"And it's a cruise ship that will take us from Hoenn to Sinnoh." Zoroark mentioned.

From Hoenn to Sinnoh. Grovyle couldn't help but smile at the thought of travelling to a new country altogether.

* * *

For the next few months of luxury cruise ship travel, Grovyle's time aboard the Recensere was indubitably the most enjoyable moment of Grovyle's life. The boat was like an oversized mobile home built for at least a thousand people and Pokémon alike, capable of moving them across the vast blue expanses in comfort and with some of the best food that Grovyle has ever eaten.

Before, Grovyle mostly ate Berries and the occasional human item, half-eaten and discarded into the trash. They sufficed and Grovyle was content enough with that because they tasted decently enough and were (mostly) part of his mandatory and mostly herbivorous diet. But the way that the human (and even Pokémon) chefs prepare their cuisine to the passengers of the Recensere, for both human and Pokémon consumption, almost made Grovyle openly cry from how delectable it all was. Add in the fact that it was served three times per day as "breakfast", "lunch", "dinner" and sometimes "desert"–four words that Grovyle now committed to his vocabulary–, and Grovyle was certain that he would become a fat, happy, Purugly during this cruise.

But because of Natural's other three Pokémon, he never was.

True to their words, they trained Grovyle during the limited time they had. Darmanitan, Swoobat, and Zoroark alternated their schedules (Pokémon having schedules instead of focusing on survival was a blessing as Grovyle soon discovered) so that they would each be able to teach Grovyle during two of the seven days of the week. They then left Sunday as a day off, with which they commonly spent taking advantage of the surplus of recreational activities that the Recensere had to offer.

Zoroark's idea of training for Grovyle was to teach him various outdoor and survival skills, such as starting fires and preserving food, all of which were beneficial for Grovyle. Because before this, Grovyle's idea of food preservation was to keep his collected Berries in a discarded, dirty cloth and tie said cloth onto a stick. And his idea of sleep was to find the tallest tree and cling onto its tallest branch before falling asleep. Now he knew a few craftier tricks, some of which were inspired through Zoroark's illusory capabilities. Because, in Zoroark's mind, confusing the enemy is half the battle.

Swoobat's idea of training for Grovyle was to teach him the three basics of human education: reading, writing, and arithmetic. At first, Grovyle didn't pick up on such foreign concepts, and couldn't understand why humans even bothered with this. But because of Swoobat's astonishingly relaxed nature, not to mention her psychic abilities proving helpful in influencing Grovyle's mind for the better. Grovyle not only caught on and learned comfortably, but managed to perform the three basic R's at their level. This newfound knowledge will most certainly prove helpful to him as he's exploring Sinnoh, where navigation was a must.

Darmanitan's idea of training for Grovyle was to fight him, and fight him with the intent of incinerating him. Luckily for Grovyle, he was much too quick to be struck outright by Darmanitan's direct and indirect Fire-Type attacks. That was a good thing, as Darmanitan feels as though their training would benefit them both. And as a result, it does, with minimal damage despite Grovyle's type disadvantage (mostly because there's a Pokémon Center on the Recensere).

Grovyle even learned how to master his LEAF BLADE technique, with the toy sword actually helping him perfect his attack.

As this was going on, both Natural and his father–Ghetsis as Grovyle eventually learned was the robed man's name–spent a fair amount of time to themselves, with Ghetsis likely teaching Natural how to succeed in life or something of the sort. It felt that way because Ghetsis would sometimes label Natural as "prince" or even "king", as though he held his own son with such high respect.

That was what Natural told the four Pokémon, for the most part.

* * *

Almost as quickly as the three-month-long cruise began, it ended once the boat was docking itself in Sunnyshore City. Luckily for the passengers, a day or two of somewhat rough weather added to the duration of the voyage. Of course, with how much fun Grovyle had, as well as how much he learned in such a short period of time, a couple of days felt like a drop in the bucket in comparison to an entire season.

Grovyle came out of the cruise ship with more experience, a better physical constitution, and a few helpful items that Grovyle will soon commit to memory before properly disposing of. These items included supplementary vitamins (HP Up, Protein, Iron, Calcium, Zinc, and Carbos), portable Berry Pots, a few healing items (Old Gateau, Hyper Potion), and a handful of geographical maps and tourist informational pamphlets. All of these items, excluding the toy sword which Grovyle discreetly tossed into the sea a couple of weeks back because he no longer needed it), were stored in a complementary backpack that was given to children.

This meant that the backpack that Natural received was given to Grovyle, for obvious reasons.

"I'm glad that you enjoyed your time with us." Natural knew well enough Grovyle's wishes to explore the world on his own and completely respected it by putting the Wood Gecko Pokémon's thoughts over his own. "And I'm also glad that my friends were so willing to take care of you and teach you what I already taught them."

"It's amazing what they know, and what you _yourself_ know." Grovyle conversed with Natural as he would a Pokémon, because Natural was practically gifted with the ability to speak the language of Pokémon alongside that of humanity. "I never thought I'd meet a human being who's as much of a Pokémon as he is human."

"I was born an orphan in a forest," Natural reminded Grovyle. "These three Pokémon were the first to notice me and raise me as if I was their own. And then my father Ghetsis finally found me and took me back in, and my Pokémon friends have come with me as well."

Grovyle looked at the robed man and did noticed a bit of similarities between the two of them. For starters, Ghetsis' and Natural's hair were the same color. But last Grovyle checked, green wasn't a natural hair color for humans…was it? They had black hair and brown hair and white hair and red hair and purple hair and orange hair and yellow hair and silver hair.

…Truthfully, Grovyle wasn't certain what colors of their hair were natural.

"Everywhere I go, I'm always meeting new Pokémon to talk to, to understand, to learn from, and to teach." Natural spoke cheerfully before his voice sobered rather quickly for a child his age. "I never liked the idea of imprisoning them inside Poké Balls, or having them fight other people's Pokémon. They only end up getting hurt for something as stupid as competition."

Grovyle was astounded by how sagacious a mere child was. Either Ghetsis taught him well or he learned more from Pokémon than any human ever could. It was actually painful to leave him and his Pokémon friends behind, after having spent enough time with them on this miracle cruise ship, with a name that strangely fit instead of being nonsensical. But Grovyle had to, and didn't waver from his life choices, no matter how many friends he made.

Grovyle was still a seed after all, wafting in the wind. When the time comes for him to settle down, he will grow, but until then, he will roam the world.

"And I always put the needs of my Pokémon ahead of my own. Always."

Grovyle was taken slightly aback when Natural not only embraced him in a hug, but began to cry on the back of his shoulder.

"Take care, Grovyle." His voice was surprisingly composed, as if he had tamed his heartfelt farewells. "Perhaps we'll meet again in the future."

Grovyle couldn't resist the urge to cry upon being embraced so lovingly and so honestly. Which is why he simply nodded instead of saying a word when he felt his tears roll down his cheeks.

Everyone else received a hug, except for Ghetsis who watched as the only stoic adult in this group of six.

* * *

Location: Route 222

Date: ?

Time: Early Afternoon

Grovyle's first steps on a new region were tentative ones. Not because of the fear of the unknown. Not because of the different change of scenery. But from a different reason altogether, one that Grovyle had little experience dealing with because of living in Hoenn.

"Brr…" Grovyle shivered slightly from the ocean breeze to his left side. "Hoenn was almost never this cold, even during the winter."

Grovyle scanned his surroundings a bit more carefully to wonder why Sinnoh's weather was milder in comparison to the tropical biome of Hoenn. The beaches and grasslands only appeared mildly different due in part to the differences in sand and grass and trees. So for the weather to be somewhat chiller in comparison to that of Hoenn, something else was at work.

"…That mountain range." Grovyle's eyes soon glanced at the wall of towering rock that seemed to stretch across the horizon, as if Arceus Itself swung a single mighty arm across the earth and scratched it, leaving behind this mountain range. "And the tallest mountain… That's Mt. Coronet, I believe."

Grovyle could've pulled out a pamphlet and reviewed his information to make sure that his information was correct, but what preoccupied Grovyle more was that he figured out where the cold weather was coming from.

"*Sigh* Perhaps I should think about wearing some clothes, like what the humans wear." Grovyle contemplated. "A hat or a scarf, or maybe a coat and some pants. They seem to be quite comfortable with the clothes that they wear, I've seldom seen them wearing nothing. It's either that or learning SUNNY DAY. Never really learned how to do that before and it would make using SOLAR BEAM much easier…if I even _knew_ that attack."

As luck would have it, there were Pokémon and Pokémon Trainers within the area, and they did take notice of Grovyle. But the backpack he wore suggested that he belonged to someone, so they kept their space and didn't try anything that would force Grovyle into taking any defensive actions.

Sadly, those rules didn't apply to the _wild_ Pokémon.

Grovyle couldn't walk out of the exit of Route 222 without having a dangerous encounter with the local wildlife. And this encounter was narrowly avoided thanks in part to Grovyle's lightning quick reaction time. Grovyle leapt and somersaulted high into the air, just in time to avoid a Purugly's SLASH attack.

But the attacker didn't stop there.

Purugly dug in its paws, its glowing white claws, into the earth before springing off of it and performing a U-TURN to follow Grovyle into the air. And up here, Grovyle's evasive abilities were already limited. But fortunately for him, the near reflexive use of DETECT drastically heightened his perception of time and allowed him to evade Purugly before the Tiger Cat Pokémon could sink its teeth into his neck.

With two of Purugly's attacks ending in failure, both Pokémon came back down to earth, their backs turned against each other for a few seconds. Then, they refaced each other, and reluctant introductions were made.

"You're not from here, are you?" Purugly growled almost seductively, as she eyed her targeted prey.

"You're the first Pokémon to tell me that." Grovyle said before removing his backpack and setting it down on the ground, sensing that this fight was only just getting starting. "And after today, you won't be the only one to tell me that."

Purugly put one of her forepaws to her chin in mock laughter, with an insulting grin that only feline-like Pokémon seemed to be able to perform with aplomb. "You're overconfident, aren't you? A foreign Pokémon thinking he has a place here, when in reality he simply exists to become my next meal."

"…You look as though you've eaten plenty." Grovyle's response was slightly delayed at the thought of being swallowed either whole or in pieces to this predatory Pokémon. "You're not fooling me with how you're binding your belly with your tail."

"It's an intimidation display." Purugly deadpanned, as if telling common knowledge to an idiot. "It's supposed to make me look beefier than I already am."

"I don't see it." Grovyle said while squinting his eyes slightly. "All I see is a fat cat that could stand to lose some weight."

That three-letter word was Purugly's trigger in more ways than one, as she appeared to abandon sentience in favor of blind instinct at the snap of a finger. Grovyle soon found himself with a Tiger Cat Pokémon rushing straight at him, and readied a LEAF BLADE across his right arm to cut her face in half with at the perfect moment.

Grovyle slashed horizontally, but only cleaved air as Purugly leapt skyward and cast her shadow down on the Wood Gecko Pokémon. Grovyle didn't have enough time to attempt to raise his LEAF BLADE up to impale Purugly and instead sidestepped to avoid her BODY SLAM attack.

Then, she upped her ante by using SHADOW CLAW attack across both of her forepaws, meeting Grovyle's single LEAF BLADE head on.

What started out as an encounter between predator and prey soon elevated into a combative swordplay of sorts between two users experienced in (energy) bladed weaponry. Both adversaries constantly locked claws and blades, with Purugly sometimes taking advantage of her second SHADOW CLAW until Grovyle used LEAF BLADE on his left arm as well.

But even though Grovyle was well-trained by Natural's three Pokémon, he still had a limit with his physicality and couldn't overpower a Pokémon that was twice his weight.

A forced parry quickly pushed Grovyle back and slammed his backside against a tree, knocking both the pair of LEAF BLADE attacks and the wind out of him. Purugly began to stalk slowly stalk Grovyle now, her mouth open as she was licking her chops.

"Nowhere to run, and only one place to hide." Purugly said wetly as saliva began to drip down onto the ground. "If you know what I mean."

Grovyle sorely stood back up and weighted his options. He could attempt to flee into the trees and escape, but that would mean abandoning the backpack he set aside there, risking losing it and all of its contents permanently. He could continue to fight and resort to special attacks such as MEGA DRAIN and ENERGY BALL. He could attempt to use some of the Fighting-Type attacks in his arsenal to exploit her weaknesses, such as DOUBLE KICK and DRAIN PUNCH. Or he could fool her with the use of DOUBLE TEAM or SUBSTITUTE.

But before any of that, and just as Purugly began to charge right for him, a white and black blur suddenly shot out of the shrubbery and intercepted PURUGLY with a single FOCUS PUNCH across the face.

Grovyle caught the slightest instance of Purugly's somewhat globular face compressing inward from the force of the punch, before the rest of her skipped and rolled across the ground. And when she stopped and stood back upright after moving back about fifty feet, she fled at the sight of her assailant, no longer seeing a point in hunting for a meal if it meant getting severely injured or even risking death by a plausible neutral party.

Grovyle noticed the presence of his surprise guest after Purugly was long gone, and he couldn't take his eyes off of him, even when this Pokémon retrieved his backpack and returned it to him. All he knew was that he was looking at a Pokémon with a fur coat suitable for winter weather.

"Who…what are you?" Grovyle said as he took the backpack from the gentlemanly Pokémon and re-equipped it.

" _I am a Lucario._ " The Lucario introduced himself telepathically. " _My name is Wanderer._ "

* * *

"Ambition balanced against survival instinct, (...). Ambition leads you to great risk. But ambition never leads you to certain destruction." —Orson Scott Card (87) (" _Shadow of the Giant_ ")


	12. Diverging Chapter 12

**Diverging Chapter 12: Terra Garchomp's Repressed Love**

Location: Team Rocket Main Headquarters

Date: ?

Time: ?

The time period is _long_ before Xeno Lucario's birth, back during the earliest days of Team Rocket. During this time, Team Rocket wasn't the infamous crime syndicate that it has been known in present day. And during this time, they didn't possess nearly as many rare and powerful Pokémon that they do today.

Which is why the Gible, nicknamed "Terra" by those that had brought him into Team Rocket, was so beloved to the budding organization.

During this period of time were Team Rocket gave _some_ semblance of caring for their Pokémon, Terra was raised with particularly close attention and received some of the best overall aid that Team Rocket were willing to invest into the baby Land Shark Pokémon. And whether or not he realized the true intentions of Team Rocket, whether or not he knew of their criminal agenda regarding him, he didn't care. Because like Remoraid to a Mantine, they went along for the ride and reaped what was harvested by the stronger, supporting party.

Terra grew healthy and quickly as a result, rapidly evolving into a Gabite and then into the mighty Garchomp of present day, albeit with a mere fraction of the battle scars that it would come to collect over the years. And throughout his growth he had seen many owners and masters, experienced many things, learned many techniques and battle tactics, paid attention to so much of man that made them distinct from Pokémon. For example, one of Terra's assigned owners was a fan of collecting antique, outdated technology, such as a typewriter and a telegraph, the latter being essential to communicate via Morse Code.

As a fully matured albeit relatively young Garchomp, Terra was highly respected not just by the Pokémon he teamed up alongside, but by the human masters that would _literally_ fight over him. Half the time, Team Rocket Grunts and even Admins would compete with one another for the right to use him as their own, to the point where Giovanni himself interfered and reconfigured the time cycle by which anyone could use him.

That system, as the Team Rocket personnel saw it, was fair, repeated, and even included Giovanni himself into the mix. The reason for that being his specialty in Pokémon centered around Ground-Type Pokémon, which Terra is partially. It also made Terra Garchomp occasionally used at Viridian Gym, where Giovanni himself is the Gym Leader of.

The missions that Terra would work on over the years mostly revolved around capturing wild Pokémon or stealing those of a Pokémon Trainer that Team Rocket would stalk over any given period of time. And another reason why Terra was so heavily valued by Team Rocket is because he was obedient to a fault. Respectful and experienced to both his human owners and to the Pokémon he would frequently work alongside. He never turned tail and assault those above or below him, and has sometimes been seen teaching other Pokémon to be level with him.

Terra, in short, was one of the most valuable assets of Team Rocket. But even so, there were some faults to the Mach Pokémon that were noticed by his superiors.

Being half Dragon-Type and half Ground-Type meant that Terra Garchomp had a glaringly obvious weakness to Ice-Type Pokémon and their respective attacks and techniques. But because Garchomp are naturally powerful and versatile Pokémon, Terra was taught some techniques to combat against his greatest natural weaknesses. Techniques such as BRICK BREAK, FLAMETHROWER, and STONE EDGE, attacks of attributes Fighting-Type, Fire-Type, and Rock-Type, all of which poses significant threats to Ice-Type Pokémon. Through these handful of techniques, alongside Terra's remarkably high level of experience over the years, he actually developed a bit of a resistance over Ice-Type Pokémon and their attacks. Not enough to guarantee victory, but enough to tip the scales.

As time went on, another weakness became evident to the members of Team Rocket, one which they didn't count on until it was discovered through a failed attempt.

Terra was timid around breeding with Pokémon of the opposite sex.

When Terra was fully matured, the breeders of Team Rocket quickly wished to make the Mach Pokémon their personal breeding Granbull of sorts. They knew that Terra Garchomp was powerful, combatively experienced, knew many advanced Pokémon Techniques, and was even a Pokémon regarded with possessing a few "Perfect IV", as they classified it. But the first attempt at pairing Terra up with a Pokémon of the opposite sex and of the same Egg Group ended in a bewildering disaster of great reluctance and obvious timidity.

At first, this struck the Team Rocket personnel as incredibly odd, as Garchomp has a long history of being anything _aside_ from defiance and reluctance. And they figured that a Pokémon of his "caliber" would happily take this opportunity and mate with as many open Pokémon as physically possible, be they willing, in heat, forced, or restrained.

But through different tactics that seemed to be more popular with the _female_ Grunts than the males, for questionable reasons that simply involved handling a different kind of Poké Ball and getting away with it, they discovered that Terra was far more comfortable "donating" a genetic sample this way than actually copulating with any available female Pokémon.

This made those responsible of Terra wonder why. And through some contemplations and debates, they narrowed down the possibility of Terra having some sort of personal boundary when it came to the idea of mating with female Pokémon.

It couldn't be based off of any kind of normal social interactions, because Terra has spent quality time with both male and female Pokémon of all kinds of shapes and sizes. And it couldn't be based off of any human interactions because Terra had next to no emotional scars on how Team Rocket treated him. After all, Terra was the kind of Pokémon that wouldn't need sedation or restraint from most medical procedures, because Terra was smart enough to know that they were for the benefit of his health, and Team Rocket would just have their way with him anyway. And whenever humans were involved in collecting a genetic sample from one of their prized breeding bulls, Terra would plop on his side and happily let them do their business, mostly because it felt pleasurable to him, as it would to almost any other Pokémon.

As it turns out, the discovered reason why Terra is reluctant to mate with female Pokémon is simply because Terra doesn't want to harm them. It is a noble reason and one that has come from Terra's overall kindness towards those it works alongside.

But as the amount of instances grow where horny Grunts fool about with Terra instead of doing their jobs, the need to pair Terra up with a breeding cow becomes more and more necessary, just so that the amount of cases of occupational bestiality doesn't interfere with actual work and/or taint the minds of the Pokémon involved to pick a side that would simply waste their samples.

In the end, Team Rocket resorts to one particular Pokémon that has a long history of fertility within the organization. The perfect Pokémon to steer Terra in the right direction. All they have to do is wait for this Pokémon to be imported to them from their secret base of operations in Kalos, as the technology for the instantaneous transfer of Pokémon within their Poké Balls over PC isn't quite what it was in the past.

* * *

Terra Garchomp didn't know why he was suddenly deposited into one of the forest biomes of Team Rocket. He knew that being inside one of these was meant for infantile Pokémon, Pokémon that were temporarily held here and then be assessed by Team Rocket to see if they're worthwhile in keeping or not. Those that are become personal pawns of Team Rocket, although few grow to his rank. And those that aren't tend to be killed off, depending on the Pokémon.

"(Why am I here today?)" Terra contemplated, seeing nothing but surprisingly accurate forest scenery, from the height of the trees to the body of water at the center of it all. "(What's the occasion?)"

Understanding very little of Team Rocket's motive for putting Terra in here, the Mach Pokémon spent a fair amount of time simply walking about the area, feeling a bit of peace of mind from being in a natural area…even though it only stretches a few hundred feet at the widest.

Eventually, Terra heard the sounds of a Pokémon being released from its Poké Ball within this biome, alongside the telltale sight of a streak of red energy landing behind a tree. Naturally, Terra was drawn to the only perplexing part of this biome, to see who it was that was sharing this environment with him now.

But upon reaching the tree where Terra saw the streak of red energy land behind, Terra saw no Pokémon whatsoever behind it. All the Mach Pokémon saw were a pair of somewhat small, round footprints that left behind a slimy substance rather than an indentation into the dirt.

Dropping down to all fours, Terra sniffed out the trail of footprints that originated from this one, avoiding stepping on them because of the slimy substance that each one had. And as Terra followed the trail, the amount of slime became more copious, until it was just a puddle that seemed to drip down from a higher place.

That higher place, as Terra stood bipedal before noticing, was a large rock platform with a Goodra sitting on the top edge of it.

Well, not really sitting. This Goodra was lying seductively on its left side, with its right hand rhythmically tapping its valley-like right hip.

"Hello there, handsome." The Goodra said with bedroom eyes and the voice of a succubus. "What brings you to this neck of the woods? Me? I've come here looking for some wood to grab, if you know what I mean."

"…" Terra swallowed once, at the sight of this voluptuous, slimy Dragon-Type Pokémon, before taking a few slow steps back, as if preparing to run.

Goodra clearly noticed this and she slowly rolled off of the rock ledge she began to puddle over with her slime. She made sure that Terra saw as much of her plump rump as possible as she almost appeared to slide down the rock ledge. Then, she waggled her raised tail a bit before turned around with a lustful look in her jade eyes.

"What's the matter, Terra?" Goodra questioned the Mach Pokémon, knowing of him and never losing her smile or the licentiously lustful gleam of her eyes. "You've never met a dragon lady of my…girth before?"

"…You're not the first." Terra continued to back away as Goodra continued stepping forward, swaying her wide hips with each of her slimy steps. "But you do appear…wetter…than the usual Goodra that I've seen."

"That's because they're not as _fertile_ as I am." Goodra emphasized that word as she rubbed her pudgy belly and bent herself over slightly.

"You're one of the breeding Miltank for Team Rocket, aren't you?" Terra went straight to the point, taking a few more steps back while Goodra was temporarily busy palpating and admiring her own curves to take another step forward.

"Yes I am." Goodra admitted easily enough as she stepped closer to Terra. "And I love every single moment of it. The foreplay, the physical contact, the _penetration_ , and ultimately the sensation of pushing out a clutch of eggs."

"…" Terra was a bit unsettled by Goodra's outright love of lovemaking. "I doubt you've fornicated with a Pokémon my size before."

"Nonsense." Goodra said before bending over before Garchomp and most likely rubbing her posterior in recollection of past breeding sessions. "I've taken bigger things up my butt before. Shall I list them all for you? Describe their manhood in vivid detail? One of them is a _Garchomp_ , just in case you haven't caught on yet."

"Why do you feel the need to tell me this?" Terra was growing increasingly uncomfortable with her intimate progression towards her. She clearly wanted to breed with him, and he was slowly backtracking himself into a wall.

…Actually, he just hit a wall, and felt his dorsal fin warp slightly upon impact.

"Because I enjoy telling my prey about myself before I _devour_ them."

Terra didn't believe that Goodra was talking about _physically_ devouring him, mostly because they're roughly the same size. But she did speak as though she were a predator of sorts. And after a bit of thought, Terra knew what kind.

"…Oh Arceus, you're a _sexual_ predator."

As if those two words were her trigger, Goodra suddenly rushed straight for Terra with open arms and an incoming BODY SLAM that was intended more as a means for immediate physical embrace rather than an outright attack. And unsurprisingly, Terra rolled out of the way and began to flee.

Or at least keep his distance from the only other Pokémon that shared this biome.

"Oh, playing hard to get, are we?" Goodra said after feeling her body jiggle like gelatin from slamming her belly into solid ground. Her pudginess meant that she barely felt the missed impact, and her tone of voice meant that she wasn't winded in the slightest. She simply stood back upright from the shallow puddle of slime she made and lustfully eyed Terra as he took to a different corner and watched her closely. "That's fine by me. That just makes me _hornier_. And hungrier too, but I'll eat later."

To the Team Rocket personnel that were monitoring this in a separate room and through surveillance cameras scattered about the biome, they witnessed two Dragon-Type Pokémon playing Persian and Pikachu. The lustful Goodra was chasing after the reluctant Garchomp, moving surprisingly quickly for a Pokémon of her weight and somewhat stubby legs. Of course, being in a sealed environment meant that Terra could only keep a large enough distance and take cover in so many areas, which was only advantageous to the Dragon Pokémon.

Also, Goodra apparently fights dirty, as she struck Terra with a direct ICE BEAM attack and froze him solid. And shortly after that, she got a running start before leaping up and using BODY SLAM directly over him, shattering Terra's icy prison and landing right on his belly, as the Mach Pokémon himself was uncomfortably forced onto his back.

"You're so tense, sweetheart." Goodra amorously cooed as she still felt Terra put up a resistance to her. "I'm here to help you relax."

"I'll only relax if you get off of me!" Terra said, putting a couple of claws onto Goodra to try and swipe her off. But all this did was get his claws coated in her slime, without so much as leaving a scratch on her squishy body. He even prodded at one of her horns, but that only made it temporarily retract like the head of a Magcargo.

"What, are you a 'Pomosexual' or something?" Goodra said as a possibility, albeit one that she seriously doubted. "A hot piece of slimy ass is brought from a different corner of the world to mate with you, and you don't want it?"

"No, it's not that." Terra continued to try and shake her off, but with weak and futile attempts that seemed pitiful at best. Terra at one point contemplated using CRUNCH on her neck, his sharp teeth likely able to puncture her skin. But that thought was quickly discarded because that's not how he wanted her off. "It's just that, in a situation like this, it's something else that concerns me."

"Such as?" Goodra seemed to stop trying to put more of her weight on Terra's midsection by simply sitting on him instead of lying down over him, mostly because she was making headway in discovering what makes Terra tick. "Don't tell me I'm not your type. Because we clearly are. If not by personality, then by compatibility."

"Just, look at me." Terra almost hesitated in saying those words, knowing how easily they can be warped in the mind of his sexual predator. "Look at my body. What do you see?"

"I've seen the same thing from many a Garchomp before you." Goodra said, not exactly understanding Terra's true words and intentions. "Powerful bodies that can slice through the air at the speed of sound. Sometimes it makes me wonder what it would be like to climax at such high speeds."

"That's not what I see." Terra said solemnly, no longer putting up a resistance, mostly because he felt Goodra relax a bit. "Not during moments like this anyway."

"Oh?" Goodra curiously moaned with a mild head tilt.

"I see a body built for power, not for comfort." Terra stated. "I can say the opposite for you, from a first glance anyway."

"Oh, how sweet…" Goodra smiled, as if having heard this many times before. "You think you'll hurt me with your claws, spikes, and teeth if I let you fuck me."

Terra simply nodded, hiding his astonishment at Goodra's experience with these kinds of matters.

"All of the Pokémon before you that have felt similar feelings of apprehension. And they all center around one thing." Goodra spoke from past experiences. "The Pokémon I've mated with that think that are all virgins. Inexperienced and caring more for their partner's safety than their own."

"Well, I'm not exactly a virgin." Terra pointed out, feeling a bit hesitant in saying that.

"Let me guess…" Goodra said while putting a finger to her chin. "The human Grunts milked you."

Terra nodded.

"And the female Grunts felt like having their way with you."

Terra nodded again, blushing a bit at how _persuasive_ they can be at times.

"How naughty…" Goodra said before looking up at one of the cameras on the ceiling, as it was pointed straight at them, the Team Rocket personnel likely observing them through it presently. "I guess they're just as sex starved as you are."

Terra simply stayed silent in response to this. Mostly because it was somewhat true, depending on the species involved.

"Don't you worry your silly little head." Goodra sultrily said before playfully patting Terra on the yellow mark on his forehead. "Just follow my lead as I guide you and let me do most of the work."

"But what if I harm you?" Terra began to warm up to the Dragon Pokémon.

"Pain and pleasure sometimes go hand in hand." Goodra explained. "Although all I'll likely feel from you is pure, blissful pleasure."

Already in an ideal position, both Pokémon simply made themselves more comfortable for their lovemaking by shifting themselves slightly so that Terra's dorsal fin was no longer against the wall, and Goodra's lower body was seated a bit further down Terra's waistline. And once both Pokémon physically shifted themselves, Goodra stayed true to her word and did most of the work. For the time being anyway.

Goodra began to slowly bounce up and down over Terra's lower lap, gently and rhythmically for a Pokémon of her voluptuous diameter. Terra, surprisingly, didn't feel as though Goodra was slowly flattening his pelvic area. Instead, he felt as though he was slowly starting to admire Goodra's smooth skin that secrets a slimy substance almost constantly. Especially around her butt, but strangely not where both Pokémon were making contact. Perhaps she was working her way up to that ecstasy.

"What do you call this action?" Terra said, watching Goodra ride him as though he were watching a cowgirl ride a Rapidash in full gallop, in slow motion so that the subtle rising and falling motions were highlighted.

"I believe the humans call it 'lap dancing'." Goodra identified, feeling her breath and heart rate start to elevate from their budding mating ritual. "I tell you, those humans really know how to experiment with one another. Makes us Pokémon look like one pump chumps. All purpose and no enjoyment."

"We should change that then." Terra said with growing confidence and libido, as he glanced over one of the surveillance cameras that was focusing its lens directly behind Goodra's back. "They're peeping on us as we speak. Let's show them that we're just as capable, if not better than them, at this."

"Now you're speaking my language." Goodra almost squealed in delight at the sound of Terra's eagerness, in more ways than one.

Instead of bouncing her butt off of Terra's lower body like a small trampoline, Goodra began to treat it like a rug, by essentially scooting her posterior to and fro below Terra's navel and above his knees. In doing so, she began to get a feel for Terra's rugged body in her most sensitive areas of her body.

Before Terra's eyes and inner ears, Goodra put both of her arms around Terra's own arms, clutching tightly to the claws at the end of his fins. She reared her head up with her eyes closed as she began to make this slightly bizarre sound that can best be compared to a purring Liepard gurgling water.

"I should probably have told you about my Rough Skin sooner." Terra never mentioned his Hidden Ability until now.

"Mmmnn… I'm glad you didn't." Goodra moaned between her gurgling purring. "I've never been able to…nnggghhh…scratch myself between my legs… _properly_ before… Not even with…oooohhhh…other Garchomp _before_ you…"

"Is that a good thing, in your eyes?" Terra said, also wondering how he was performing for her so far.

"You're…aaaahhh…one of a kind, Terra…" Goodra said before bending herself completely over Terra's upper body, lying flat on her belly against his belly, so that she could lock her lips over Terra's and kiss him slowly and intimately.

Terra's eyes appeared to roll up and into his skull before closing them from the sheer emotional bliss that Goodra was providing for him, and he in return. Terra's arms began to fold over Goodra's backside, feeling the subtle stickiness of her slime over her smooth, gelatinous skin. To many people and Pokémon, this may disgust them as it would often leave them feeling messy after having a Dragon Pokémon hug them and leave behind viscous slime for them to clean off. But for Terra, as he was practically tasting it from Goodra's mouth, he simply wanted more of it. The taste of it was somewhat thick and watery, with a hint of sweetness to it akin to tree sap. It reminded him of Combee honey, and he only wanted more of it as time went on.

Goodra had long stopped rubbing herself over Terra's crotch, giving his groin enough time to breathe in fresh air by evaporating the lingering layer of slime before the _real_ fun began. Her hindquarters still felt the phantom pleasure of having been scratched squarely between both cheeks, and it made her hornier for Terra in more ways than one.

"Rub my horns, Terra." Goodra whispered softly to Terra's ears between kisses.

Terra complied to her every demand, and lifted one arm over the back of Goodra's head. His broad purple fin began to gingerly stroke the back of Goodra's squishy horns, his Rough Skin acting far less like an abrasive and more like a tender scratching post for the Dragon Pokémon. And whether or not Goodra's retractable antennae were as sensitive as her genitals or not, tenderly fondling them certainly made Goodra stop kissing Terra, only to wetly coo at being stroked so close to her head.

Terra licked his lips to taste Goodra's heavenly slime before staring Goodra dead in her emerald eyes. In looking at her rounded face, he saw a partner in her, a mate for life, a face that he can comfortably and constantly appreciate for years to come. And the same could be said for Goodra as she saw the warm fire through his golden eyes, and the rugged look in his face that she could rely on to protect her if need be.

Both Pokémon, for about a minute or so, simply hold and caress each other's faces, silently etching them on the surfaces of their own minds both the appearance and the texture, so that they never forget and can immediately identify each other upon first glance.

Then Goodra felt something prick at her left butt cheek, and she craned her long neck behind her back to see what it was…as if she already didn't know.

"No wonder the human females swooned over you! You're enormous!" Goodra exclaimed in delight, feeling her body secrete more slime in anticipation of what was to come. "Now I'm feeling jealous that you already lost your virginity to one of them."

"I've lost it to humans, but not yet to Pokémon." Terra assured her, positioning his arms around her lower back, just as she was putting her feet on the ground in order to stand on all fours above him, preparing herself for the ride of her life. "You'll still be my first, and I will never forget that."

"Well, I can't quite say that you're my first, or my hundredth, or my _thousandth_ …" Goodra mentioned as she positioned herself for Terra, hovering her fat posterior over Terra's purple horn, so that the act of sitting down would "impale" her, between her legs. "But based on the size of your…mmnh…GROWTH…"

Terra could feel Goodra's salivating. Her face began to blush heavily as her mouth hung open and saliva dribble down over his neck like a leaky faucet. He didn't mind in the slightest because it blended in with Goodra's slime. And from his position, he could see the rotundity of Goodra's hindquarters as she wiggled it around, aligning herself for maximum penetration and pleasure.

"…I think _you'll_ be the one that I remember the most." Goodra smiled as she felt her knees quiver in anticipation.

In Terra's mind, the fact that Goodra said "you'll" instead of "yours" means that she isn't as narrow-mindedly focused on one thing as she may lead on. Sure, she may be a sexual predator, and she'll likely be partnered up to breed with dozens, if not hundreds of other Pokémon after him. But the fact that she seems to be marking Terra Garchomp as one of the best she's going to take up the butt, made Terra feel elated to finally mate with another Pokémon.

…

Terra growled in elation when he felt Goodra sit down on his groin, when she deliberately let her legs give out. And then he flinched and grunted in pain when he felt a sharp jerk towards a different direction than Goodra originally intended.

"Oh crap, I missed." Goodra muttered in mild embarrassment. She lifted up her butt and quickly looked below her belly to make sure she didn't just break in half her greatest sexual experience yet. And fortunately for her, Terra's purple sword simply slid away from her genitalia and fell flat when she sat down. "Oh good, you're alright. That's a relief. I can't tell you how many lesser men I've broken by, well, literally _breaking_ them in half."

"Just try again and aim carefully." Terra strongly suggested, before the blue balls sensation ruined this moment.

"Oh, you don't have to tell _me_ twice." Goodra smiled with her tongue hanging out of her panting mouth.

Once again, Goodra slammed her derrière into Terra's erection. And once again, it slid off to the side, eliciting another stifled grunt in Terra's part.

"Tch, I missed again." Goodra clicked her tongue. "This doesn't normally happen to me."

"Perhaps you should slow down a bit and take your time?" Terra suggested, the mild pain from Goodra's first attempt on him dulling into the second. And fortunately for Terra, he had an extraordinarily high tolerance to pain, and a resilient physical build to further contemplate it. "Don't want either of us to climax too soon after all."

"True. Very true. Nothing disappoints me more than a Pokémon who can't last ten seconds before fainting." Goodra recollected before raising her buttocks for attempt #3, dropping it down, and then raising it for her fourth attempt.

"…Uh, Goodra?"

"I know. I know." Goodra began to slam her bubble butt repeatedly over Terra's crotch now, slowly albeit still missing her mark each time. "Honestly now, this shouldn't be happening to me. It's like being a human, fumbling to plug in a charger in the middle of the night, with no lights on! This shouldn't take too much–!"

All of a sudden, Terra's entire genitalia were swallowed whole by Goodra's squishy bottom, as evident by the fact that the Dragon Pokémon quivered and stopped moving her rear end after penetration. But as Terra twitched his member within her, feeling his heartbeat pressed against her moist walls, he couldn't help but feel as though something felt slightly off, especially as Goodra seemed to clench at his base before she pulled out.

"Whoops, not there! I poop from there!" Goodra rapidly exclaimed, as if the feeling was foreign to her.

"…Not a big fan of anal?" Terra questioned her.

"No, I _love_ it." Goodra begged to differ. "Just not a big fan of the mess that results from it. At least I already took a shit before this…unless you're _into_ that sort of thing."

Terra found himself simply shrugging his shoulders as Goodra continued staring at him shamelessly, as if opening up a future option for them.

"Okay, good." Goodra said simply before dragging her feet a few inches back, backing up her wide load in the process, so that the right socket would get plugged in by Terra this time.

And sure enough, one more slam did just that.

"Oh Arceus, right down to the baby maker!" Goodra exclaimed as her union with Terra ascended the two of them to heaven. "If I was pregnant right now, I'll bet they'll curiously try to touch your tip, wondering what it is that's poking into my womb."

Once both Pokémon finally became one, they began to mate as both Pokémon should. The only difference was that, because of the bipedal physical structure of their bodies, they could exercise so much more than just simple thrusting that would only last for seconds.

The Team Rocket Grunts watching on at this felt as though they were watching a high-quality pornographic film, with how long both Pokémon were lasting, how affectionately they embraced and rubbed each other, how tenderly they kissed, and how powerfully they pushed into each other. Terra truly appeared to try his hardest to make Goodra climax, and Goodra's dribbling body and reddened face guaranteed Terra's efforts to be fruitful. Goodra truly appeared to attempt every known sexual position in the book before climaxing, and Terra followed proficiently with little explanation.

This, understandably, made the Team Rocket Grunts viewing this extremely uncomfortable or highly aroused.

* * *

"A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for." —William Shedd

* * *

This is probably the most lemony chapter I've ever written.


	13. Diverging Chapter 13

**Diverging Chapter 13: Drill Sergeant Tyranitar**

"There is no mercy in this dojo!"

"There are only two kinds of Pokémon! Those who fight and those who die! In other words, those who are on top and those who are bottom bitches!"

"Look to your left! Look to your right! One of you will not survive!"

The time period is during Team Liberator. The location is unimportant, mostly because Team Liberator is constantly travelling and taking pit stops to refuel their machine. What is important is that they're in the middle of a grassland where multiple Pokémon of various regions have been known to gather.

The Pokémon presently listening to Tyranitar were statistically supposed to be the most brutal Pokémon of Team Rocket. Massive Pokémon, such as Machamp, Rhyperior, and Golurk, that are capable of obliterating their opponents after a single punch. But these Pokémon lacked the emotional aspect to throw a second punch after a feeble first, marking them as weak and honestly up for debate to Team Rocket whether they should be traded, tortured, or executed outright. They were considered to be some of the biggest disgraces in the eyes of that human crime syndicate.

But to Tyranitar, they're untapped potential. And Team Liberator made sure that Tyranitar was the Pokémon to build up their strength and their assertiveness, because Tyranitar carried it in abundance.

"You three are probably wondering why you're here." Tyranitar did all of the talking while these three Pokémon did all of the listening. "Why is it that Xeno Lucario rescued you and hundreds more Pokémon, out of everyone else? Was it because you and everyone else were the only Pokémon in that building at the time? Was it because he wanted to make sure every Pokémon left Team Rocket as a free individual? Was it because he was a goody two-paws? Or was it because he wanted to make Giovanni pay?

"Because honestly, I like to think it was the latter." Tyranitar continued speaking to himself. "For a while, I wondered what it was that Xeno did to Giovanni, and what became of him. I would've loved to have been there, to see the moment the bitch made the _human_ his bitch. I got my wish too when Xeno came back to us on Mirage Island and he replayed the footage his visor recorded. Still can't believe what Xeno did to that Steelix."

The trainees that Tyranitar was looking at glanced at him somewhat meekly. It could be because of their natures or their scarred history with Team Rocket. Regardless, Tyranitar did pay enough attention to that (surprisingly) and knew what he must do to toughen up these Pokémon. He also knew that his usual boasting tactics would only further scar them.

What he needed to show them is his raw power, and the promise of elevating them to similar heights with a few simple steps.

"I'm going to teach you three my favorite weapon in combat. Raw strength." Tyranitar began. "I'm going to teach you three how to penetrate the earth as though it were your lover, then tear off a chunk of it as though it were a scab on the earth."

Tyranitar did precisely that. Both of his arms were jabbed straight down into the earth, unleashing an earthquake that sounded as though the Armor Pokémon slapped the very surface of the planet. Then, he seamlessly tore of a superficial albeit enormously broad chunk of earth, which he effortlessly held over his head.

The trainee Pokémon observing him stepped back when Tyranitar raised the earth over his head and looked at his power in awe. The fact that he was effortlessly lifting solid rock, multiple times larger and dozens of times heavier than him, made them temporarily cast aside their timidity and eagerly wish that they could display comparable levels of strength over time.

"The process will be long and strenuous." Tyranitar said before tossing the chunk of earth up and away, causing it to land behind him with yet another tremor rolling over the earth, one which made his pupils flinch and narrowly fall over on their butts from a loss of balance. "You won't be me after all of it. Hell, you'll _never_ be me, and I don't want you to be either. You have to be _you_ , and find your own strength. All I can do is teach you to open up to it."

From there, Tyranitar embraced his inner drill sergeant to these three Pokémon and forced them to do all manner of physical strengthening exercises. Push-ups, sit-up, bench presses, squat thrusts, etc. He even had these Pokémon attempt to attack him, only for them to not even leave a dent on the Armor Pokémon. Tyranitar would simply deflect their incoming attacks and counterattack with a judo throw that he _sometimes_ held back to avoid harshly harming these trainees.

Overall, training progress was going good for these three Pokémon throughout the day, but the fact that they were focusing purely on offense didn't sit too well with the other two Pokémon of Team Liberator that were here alongside Tyranitar.

Aggron and Terra Garchomp.

"Oh crap, the fun police are here." Tyranitar droned at their presence before him and his pupils. "What do you two want?"

"To assist you…in training them…" Aggron said concisely to balance out his speech impediment.

"That's what Xeno Lucario wants us to do. _Together_." Terra stated the obvious before reminding Tyranitar of one key detail.

"I'm perfectly capable of training these three Pokémon all on my own, thank you very much." Tyranitar condescendingly grinned at them with closed eyes before looking over at his pupils. "Just look at the progress that we're making together. I've got them building their bodies up through 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, and 100 squats. Just need them to do a 10k run and have them commit to it. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY."

"But then what…?" Aggron already began to point out flaws with this. "You focus on strength…and raw attack power…but lack the most important…factor in a fight..."

"Sure they'll be stronger, but there's only so much you can do with blind power." Terra knew this better than most people and Pokémon alike. "What they need isn't strength. It's something else far more important."

"…And what would that be?" Tyranitar deadpanned.

"Defense…"

"Experience."

When Aggron and Terra Garchomp said both of those words in unison, they quickly (or slowly in Aggron's case) looked at each other. Tyranitar and his pupils noting the fact that the darkness masking Aggron's eyes gave way to the sapphire calmness within, which rarely happens for reasons that can't seem to be explained by simply saying it's because the sunlight doesn't shine there. Then, both Pokémon looked at Tyranitar directly, causing all three to focus more on themselves and, more importantly, their ideals in a fight above all else.

All three of the trainees simply took a breath and sensed the impending clash these three would succumb to.

"You need defense…to endure and outlast…your adversary in combat…" Aggron explained slowly and stably.

"But that's about as much fun as waiting for you to finish your sentences." Tyranitar said, never being a Pokémon to hold back with his words or his punches. "Haven't you ever heard of the saying 'A good defense is a great offense'?"

"And haven't you ever heard that battles can be won _before_ they're fought?" Terra rebuked. "Do you know how that happens? From strategy and clever tactics, which in itself comes from experience and age."

"Well…I'm not that old…" Aggron said before bashfully scratching the side of his head, where his childhood scar once resided. "And I'm not that…intelligent either…"

"Personally, I don't have twenty years to wait to kick ass when I can already _do_ so." Tyranitar began to boast. "Makes me wonder what the hell you've been doing with your time."

"Growing up, learning how to use my abilities to their fullest, being trained in various different arts and fighting styles to hold my own in virtually any scenario." Terra listed. "Yes, all of it came from Team Rocket, but that's beside the point."

"Raising your own guard as… an impenetrable bulwark…will yield similar…results…" Aggron added to the debate, fortunate that his friends do have the patience to hear him speak, because it also means that Aggron isn't prone to making mistakes with his words due to a greater period of time to think them over. "Through defense…you can see your opponent…wear themselves down…and exhaust their arsenal."

"Or you can see them pierce your defenses when they learn how to flip your big ass backside, spread your legs our, and thrust themselves into you." Tyranitar crudely compared martial vulnerability to rape. "Moral of the conflict is to never be the bottom bitch, the punching bag, the pacifist, the pussy."

"Being the exact opposite isn't any better in terms of combat either." Terra Garchomp pointed out. "Too much muscle and you become predictable and reckless, prone to counterattack and evasive maneuvers. Too much defense and you don't make any headway while allowing others to learn of your weaknesses or shortcomings."

"And too much thought…wastes time…through juggling…multiple options…when few are sufficient." Aggron believed. "Nothing wrong with…having an arsenal…of abilities…such as Xeno… But how many attacks…does it take…to defeat most opponents…?"

"In an ideal situation, one." Tyranitar grinned toothily at the satisfaction of defeating or felling opponents in one blow. "Nothing more satisfying than fighting one-hit quitters."

"Nothing more _boring_ either." Terra rolled his eyes at a lack of challenge. "Fighting easy opponents just means that you're wasting your own abilities in not taking the time to seek harder opponents."

" I don't wish…to be a pugilist…" Aggron reminded them. "Fighting seldom pleases me… I prefer to…avoid conflict…rather than…begin it… I prefer to…make the second move…after resisting the first…"

"So, what exactly do we have here, between the three of us?" Terra wondered after hearing enough of their thoughts and arguments.

"An unstoppable force, an immovable object, and a sagacious mentality." Tyranitar called them as he saw them. "Epithets of attack, defense, and experience."

"We're going to…fight again…aren't we…?" Aggron's baby blue eyes sank back into the darkness of their sockets.

"Looks that way." Terra believed before loosening himself up a bit for their impending clash. "Yet another little contest from the three of us to see which of us has the best viewpoint of battle."

"…" Tyranitar looked at the Mach Pokémon and the Iron Armor Pokémon with cocky determination.

"…" Aggron looked at the Armor Pokémon and Mach Pokémon with a silent nonchalance through shadowed eyes.

"…" Terra Garchomp looked at the Armor Pokémon and Iron Armor Pokémon with a stern, albeit piercing countenance.

The trainee Pokémon silently took a few dozen or so steps back, sensing the inevitable battle that will unfold between these three hulking Pokémon and not wanting to be in the middle of the cloud of smoke they'll likely envelop themselves in once they tussle.

And tussle they do, but not in a cloud of smoke.

Tyranitar's SAND STREAM, alongside a simultaneous use of SANDSTORM in Aggron's and Terra Garchomp's part, quickly surrounded their perspective in a veil of buffeting sand. But because of their particular Type Attributes that negate the harmful peppering effects of a SANDSTORM–Ground-Type, Rock-Type, and Steel-Type–,none of them so much as batted an eye at the billowing sand they conjured up. Even when said sand bounced off of their faces or prodded them in their somewhat thicker eyes and hardened nostrils.

The trainees watching this could no longer see these three Pokémon through the SANDSTORM. And the only semblance of their existence within the plume of sand were the telltale sounds of beating bodies within the cloud.

Tyranitar consistently attempted to bite down onto Terra Garchomp with ICE FANG and swat at Aggron with BRICK BREAK. Terra Garchomp repeatedly breathed at Tyranitar from afar with DRAGON RAGE and toppling Aggron up and over with EARTH POWER. Aggron persistently used PROTECT to defend against attacks directed his way and used METAL BURST to absorb the damage that came his way in order to redirected it at greater power.

"The only true way to defeat your opponents is to directly harm them!" Tyranitar shouted before sinking his ICE FANGs into Terra's left arm fin. Only for him to retaliate with a BRICK BREAK to the crown of his head to have Tyranitar forcibly let go and then be pushed back via DRAGON TAIL. "If not physically, then emotionally! Why do you think I speak like I'm full of myself and think of others as the dirt that I once devoured?! It's not _all_ because it's in my na–!"

Tyranitar's open mandible temporarily went sideways when Aggron successfully connected a FOCUS PUNCH attack during the struggle that Terra and Tyranitar briefly had. Tyranitar went sprawling onto the floor and fell flat on his face, but was far from unconscious despite the force of the attack and the Type Attribute superiority it had over his own.

"You talk too much…" Aggron said as he saw Tyranitar get up and put a hand on his bleeding jaw, checking to see if it wasn't luxated or broken. "And you put…too much emphasis…on offense…over–"

Aggron was sent skyward when a pillar of earth rose from the ground through Terra Garchomp's successful EARTH POWER, effectively silencing him before he could finish his sentence.

"Defense." Terra finished Aggron's sentence as he saw Aggron climb up a hundred feet at his apex. "Though you need to work on your speed alongside your versatility. Just pure defense and retaliation will eventually wear you down through endured damage alone."

Aggron came back down, but didn't leave a crater upon landing. That's mostly in part to Aggron's quick use of MAGNET RISE, allowing his half Steel-Type body to hover over the earth. From here, Aggron's body appeared to chip off and crack away in layers, as well as shrink in others, as the Iron Armor used AUTOTOMIZE to make himself lighter and therefore _faster_.

"How's this…for speed!" Aggron said before propelling himself forward towards Terra Garchomp with IRON HEAD.

Only before he could strike Terra Garchomp with this attack, he was intercepted by Tyranitar's vengeful PAYBACK. Tyranitar latched onto the floating Iron Armor Pokémon immediately after the attack, causing Aggron to miss Terra outright, forcing the Mach Pokémon to follow after them.

"Speed doesn't matter unless you have the strength to reinforce it!" Tyranitar shouted to Aggron's face, latching onto his tougher steely hide with his claws so that he doesn't slip off prematurely. "What good is being fast if you're not _furious_?!"

"Power means nothing…before a proper guard…and a steadfast defense…!" Aggron managed to say before he turned himself around so that Tyranitar was now in the interesting position of being between Aggron and the ground that Aggron was still hovering over.

Until Aggron deliberately disengaged MAGNET RISE and forced Tyranitar's front halfway into the dirt through a somewhat "feeble" HEAVY SLAM attack, until both of them slid to a dead stop.

Tyranitar used DIG to bury himself down and away from a Pokémon that almost outweighs him two-to-one, leaving Aggron to get back upright and wait patiently for Tyranitar to resurface. However, Terra saw this as a perfect opportunity to strike at both Pokémon simultaneously through a single EARTHQUAKE, and slammed both arms into the earth in order to unleash one.

"Striking multiple adversaries at once is one of the greatest strategic elements in combat!" Terra shouted after unleashing an EARTHQUAKE and visualizing a wave of earth to roll directly towards Aggron and no doubt reverberate underground where it would prove to be more harmful to Tyranitar.

Aggron lost his balance to the EARTHQUAKE and had a bit of difficulty getting back upright, while a muffled scream akin to a man buried alive was audible underground, before Tyranitar himself hastily emerged from the ground with tangible fear etched over his face that he quickly suppressed after a second of temporary weakness.

"But if the enemy…doesn't faint or die…after one attack…" Aggron began, with a telltale glint forming from the shadows of his eye sockets.

"Then we retaliate with extreme prejudice." Tyranitar scowled at Terra.

Both Pokémon, appearing to be in a mutual truce for this moment, ran straight towards Terra. However, in response to this, Terra Garchomp cast a SUBSTITUTE of himself, one which wasn't made to just take a chunk of his vitality and be used as a living shield. It was intended to be used as a makeshift ally for this situation, to even his numbers with their own. Neither Aggron nor Tyranitar let this moment deter them, the former because he lacks the emotional capability to on account of his permanent brain damage, and the latter because he almost never displays fear or hesitation.

As a result, Aggron and Tyranitar each clashed with Terra Garchomp, although were unsure which one was which because the use of SUBSTITUTE, while limited in its quantitative output, benefits from making a longer lasting clone.

Aggron's clash with Terra Garchomp, be it the SUBSTITUTE or the real deal, caused sparks to fly when METAL CLAW met DRAGON CLAW. Both adversaries, despite the fact that Aggron is somewhat taller and almost four times _heavier_ than Terra Garchomp, seemed to be relatively equal in physical strength. Not to mention Aggron is surprisingly fast in regards to reaction time and attack speed, despite what his speech impediment and brain damage may let on.

"Remind me again how you're still able to fight this well." Terra said as he was having each and every swing of his DRAGON CLAW attack parried or caught within Aggron's METAL CLAWs and then tossed aside with minimal effort.

"My emotions and speech…were the only two…damaged areas…of my brain…" Aggron said, never missing a beat with Terra's attacks and retaliating with a couple of his own, which the Mach Pokémon found himself evading albeit not as frequently as Aggron was parrying his DRAGON CLAWs. "Nothing more…and nothing less…!"

Aggron exploited an opening when he caught both of Terra's twin-bladed DRAGON CLAWs within the gaps of his _tri_ -bladed METAL CLAWs. And with a simple flick of the wrist, not only did Aggron make them go sideways and away from Terra's center, but Aggron kept going and left three closely-spaced "X" marks on Terra's torso.

The fact that they didn't bleed or cause Terra to stagger back meant that the Terra Garchomp that Aggron was facing was the SUBSTITUTE. And even if Aggron struck the real Terra and inflicted this kind of wound on him, it wasn't anything severe and easily tended to by the medicinal items they have in their possession, in case of emergency. Terra's substitute disappeared, leaving Aggron to witness what was befalling Tyranitar and the _real_ Terra Garchomp.

And what Aggron was watching was a no-holds-barred clash of a reckless offense.

Tyranitar's THRASH met evenly with Terra Garchomp's OUTRAGE. Both Pokémon moving at such a blur in their feral states of mind, as they focused on pummeling or breaking each other's bodies apart with complete abandonment for control and defense. Luckily for both of them, they were durable enough to not severely injure themselves through this attack. But they would eventually tire themselves out. The question is, who _exactly_ would tire out first.

Turns out, that question never came. Because when both of them aimed for their faces, they were left like two professional boxers frozen in time, with fists narrowly luxating their jaws. Both Pokémon didn't confuse themselves through fatigue, but they did flinch from the jarring facial impact.

This gave Aggron the perfect opportunity to put them both in a headlock, one for each arm, and bring their heads down to earth alongside his backside with a subtle variation of BODY SLAM.

The fatigue of the battle finally hit these three Pokémon as they were flat on their backs or faces. And instead of continuing until one of them fainted, they simply looked at each other, then at the partly cloudy blue sky above them.

"We're getting sidetracked…aren't we…?" Aggron said, breathing a bit more heavily through his pauses.

"Looks like it…" Terra said, feeling more fatigue than physical pain at the moment. "We're supposed to be training those Pokémon, not ourselves…"

"I think we did just that…" Tyranitar tilted up first, with Aggron and Terra Garchomp following immediately after, to see the trainees looking at them watchfully, amazed at their power and eager to see more because they know they'll learn from great, experienced teachers. "They're looking at us like I look at an easy fight…"

"We should…get back to…training them…" Aggron stood up first, and helped Terra Garchomp and Tyranitar up to their feet immediately after.

"Together, not separately…" Terra suggested, feeling a bit out of breath at the moment.

"What the hell… Why not…?" Tyranitar shrugged his shoulders, knowing the assistance to training them would ultimately benefit them.

It's what Xeno Lucario would want them to do after all.

* * *

"Something you work to achieve, that's one thing. Why not be proud of it? Why not feel good about it? But something you were born with, that's just the way you are." —Orson Scott Card (281-282) (" _Ender in Exile_ ")


	14. Diverging Chapter 14

Diverging Chapter 14: Lonesome Wanderer Lucario

* * *

Location: Route 222

Date: ?

Time: Early Afternoon

"Wanderer…Lucario?" Grovyle repeated the nickname and species name of his savior.

Wanderer Lucario simply did what his nickname suggested and wandered about Sinnoh, ever since the day he left the Lucario Clan after realizing the lengths they'll go for the sake of "survival". His life had little purpose outside of coming across the occasional Pokémon Trainer that saw him as a rare Pokémon made even further rare by his highly exotic color scheme not necessarily akin to a Shiny Pokémon, but certainly dissimilar to an ordinary blue fur coat. But those kind of people offered next to no challenge, especially when he fled.

And now, Wanderer Lucario finds himself in the uncanny position of having saved a Pokémon's life. A Grovyle that looked about as foreign to Sinnoh as he himself to this seaside route. And after handing the Wood Gecko Pokémon his dropped belongings, he simply saw no other purpose of being here.

" _I must be on my way._ " Wanderer Lucario turned his back on Grovyle. " _Farewell._ "

"Wait, where are you going!"

Wanderer stopped after a couple steps forward and sighed discreetly. He turned back around, sensing an inadvertent bond having formed between him and Grovyle. And Grovyle, clearly thankful for his actions, seems to want to strengthen it.

"You just saved my life from that Purugly earlier."

" _That wasn't anything particularly special._ " Wanderer said indifferently, his lack of social skills making his telepathic voice seem more deadpan or uncaring than he intended for. " _I caught her by surprise and she wisely saw no point to injure herself further against an adversary that both resists and is strong against her typing. She would've done the same to you if you exploited her weaknesses._ "

"But I didn't, and I don't think I was in a position to had you not come along."

" _Well, just be more careful next time._ " Wanderer Lucario said, before making the gesture to turn around again. " _Anyway, I must get–_ "

"Why are you so keen on leaving?" Grovyle couldn't help but wonder.

This time, Wanderer Lucario about-faced halfway before turning back to Grovyle, sensing that the Wood Gecko is catching on at his apparently obvious sense of intentional isolation.

"You look lonely, like you don't have a friend in this world." Grovyle sensed this from Wanderer's body language and tone of voice, not through any greater means that Wanderer Lucario obviously possessed.

" _…_ " Wanderer Lucario couldn't help but put a paw over his forehead in mild shame, pondering to himself if he's become this transparent over time.

"Have you been througha traumatic experience lately?" Grovyle strongly believed, based on this Pokémon's apparent lack of company and world-weary demeanor. "You look as though you could use a friend."

" _…If you wish to accompany me, that's fine._ " Wanderer Lucario sensed this desire from Grovyle, and jumped to the point before the Wood Gecko Pokémon made any more accurate assumptions. " _But, I won't hold your hand or wipe the dirt off of your ass if you stumble in my presence._ "

Instead of offending Grovyle, it only made him smile.

"Funny. I was about to say the same thing about you."

This partially stunned Wanderer, long enough for Grovyle to begin walk a bit ahead of him. The way that Grovyle said that suggested that he wasn't a lazy Pokémon that would leech off of the work of others, but a competent Pokémon that hopes others can pull their weight as evenly as he can.

" _Well, at least I have some company for my present travels._ "

* * *

As it turns out, Grovyle lucked out with meeting Wanderer Lucario by chance. The Wood Gecko Pokémon quickly learned that Wanderer Lucario was just as familiar with Sinnoh as he was with Hoenn. Just about any question Grovyle had about Sinnoh, Wanderer answered with surprising accuracy. In fact, Grovyle had long since run out of questions to ask, even by going over the maps and reference material he was given during the cruise ship he took to get here and had stored within his backpack.

Wanderer Lucario didn't see Grovyle as an annoyance either. Despite initially wishing to leave him after saving him from voracious Purugly, it was only because he still bared the scars of what happened during the first few years or so of his life. He never really cared much for company before Grovyle because said company always looked out for survival and how they can claw their way through another day in an arctic wasteland, rather than how they can support each other through friendship and teamwork.

…That being said, both Pokémon had different destinations to head to, and they made that clear when they sat around a campfire in the middle of a clear night.

"Why Mt. Coronet?" Grovyle wondered, looking through the flickering flames to see the arctic Aura Pokémon through them as he was seated directly before him and facing him.

" _It's not just because it feels close to home, with the weather there being more or less what I've grown accustomed to after being born into it._ " Wanderer explained, staring at the campfire albeit keeping a farther distance to it in comparison to Grovyle, for typing reasons. " _It's because I really don't have much else in my life at the moment._ "

"You met me though." Grovyle reminded him, as he was holding out a Cornn Berry he had in his possession over the fire through a stick.

" _Yes, I did. But that was through chance._ " Wanderer stated. " _If I had been a second late, you wouldn't be here trying to make popped Cornn Berry alongside me._ "

Grovyle held the particular Berry higher up from the flame, in order to avoid it from catching fire. "What exactly do you plan on doing there?"

" _Considering the harsh environment, as well as all of the resilient Pokémon there that call Mt. Coronet their home, I might as well join them and live alongside them._ " Wanderer explained. " _Living with my kind wasn't exactly pleasurable to begin with, especially with the genocide they committed that I just couldn't stomach watching for a second longer._ "

"Oh yeah…that…" Grovyle sombered at the recollection of what Wanderer told him earlier about the Absol Clan and the Lucario Clan of Snowpoint Mountains. "Do you suppose one Absol escaped them?"

" _If the one that I bumped into is intelligent, then it's likely he escaped the area altogether as the last of his respective clan._ " Wanderer recalled that particular Absol, and how he immediately assumed that the arctic-furred Lucario was of the Lucario Clan, only to not immediately believe that he was never one of them to begin with before leaving the area altogether. " _If not, he probably returned to avenge his friends and family. Whether he succeeded or not is beyond my understanding. My best guess is that he tried and failed with his life gambled away._ "

"Or he could've succeeded in making their sins catch fire." Grovyle said, noticing his Cornn Berry was swelling "For all that we know, that Absol is highly skilled and survived for a reason. Perhaps he became a one-Pokémon army and annihilated them all, right in their stronghold."

" _Perhaps. Perhaps not._ " Wanderer Lucario hollowly accepted that slim possibility.

Grovyle's Cornn Berry spontaneously popped and began to fire off kernels all over the place. And without a bowl to put them in, much less a means to properly catch them, Grovyle cursed under his breath that he didn't think things carefully enough and would see his midnight snack go to waste. However, Wanderer's eyes glowed with psychic energy and he held out one of his paws to telekinetically grasp each and every single kernel. He clumped them into a ball that he positioned close to Grovyle, allowing the Wood Gecko to grab one of the bowls he had within his backpack and catch the popped Cornn Berry kernels once Wanderer stopped using TELEKINESIS.

"Based on your abilities, I seriously doubt you're just going to live out the rest of your life in Mt. Coronet without doing much else." Grovyle assumed before grabbing a wad of popped Cornn in his claws and stuffing them in his mouth, appreciating the taste akin to that of caramelized corn.

" _No, I don't plan to. It wouldn't suit a Pokémon that are known to constantly strengthen themselves to the best of their abilities._ " Wanderer mentioned, knowing enough of his race through the disgraceful Lucario Clan to make such an assumption.

"So what's your plan?" Grovyle spoke with a full mouth, inadvertently spitting out half-chewed kernels straight into the campfire, then he swallowed and grabbed another handful. "Meditation? Reflection of yourself? Hopes and dreams? A loving mate to raise children with?"

" _Yes. Yes. Yes. And who knows._ " Wanderer Lucario answered those questions in their mentioned order. " _For now, I should focus on myself and my purpose in life before focusing on others._ "

"Sounds a bit selfish." Grovyle initially believed, his mouth openly crunching about a dozen kernels before they disappeared down his throat.

" _Well, we're both clearly young and have dozens of years ahead of us if we don't get ourselves killed._ " Wanderer clarified, looking on the bright side while simultaneously having a desensitized perspective on the darkest aspects of life. " _And if I'm to find myself being of use to anybody, I must strengthen myself in mind and matter._ "

"Well, I hope for the best for you." Grovyle said, having finished his snack sooner than he would've liked before returning the bowl back into his backpack, not really needing to clean. Then, he set himself on his side with his back to the campfire. "Sleep tight. We'll need our energy for the next few days of our travels."

" _Thanks. Same for you, Grovyle._ " Wanderer managed to say before noticing his friend began to snore.

Instead of falling asleep shortly after Grovyle, Wanderer Lucario looked up to the night sky and spent almost an hour contemplating possibilities of his life after entering Mt. Coronet.

Would he stay there for the rest of his life? How would his mediation and training regimen work out there? Would he make any new friends with the locals there? Would they accept him as one of their own? Would he help them? Will he end up falling in love with one of them and settling down? Or would they care only about themselves and be no different than the Pokémon of Snowpoint Mountains?

" _Tomorrow is another day._ " Wanderer Lucario whispered to himself before lying on his back with his left side by the campfire, but not before telekinetically tossing a few sticks into the campfire to keep it alight long enough for him to comfortably drift off into sleep.

* * *

The next few days were days where both Pokémon were open books to one another. Grovyle explained to Wanderer Lucario about his origins in Hoenn's Petalburg Forest and how he was a Pokémon that always sought adventure, even when his residents appeared to be against it. He was born independent, not necessarily an orphan because he never knew (or cared) about his parents. He said that, one day, he just packed up his things, carried alongside him some provisions, and left without anyone really caring. And from there, he travelled all across Hoenn, experiencing many new sights and dangers, evolving in the process.

When the day came that Grovyle wished to leave Hoenn and travel elsewhere, he came here by dumb luck. And what he learned from the cruise ship that took at least a few months to travel from Hoenn to Sinnoh is information that he'll treasure for the rest of his life. He met a human child with long, green hair that loves Pokémon more than he loves himself. And through his Pokémon that he doesn't house in Poké Balls, he learned how to read, how to fight better in terms of swordplay, and various essential survivor skills, which Grovyle taught Wanderer some of them.

Wanderer Lucario already explained his past to Grovyle, but he made sure that Grovyle didn't have any lingering questions. That being said, Wanderer still had some lingering questions himself, questions that don't really need answering because he's done with that portion of his life. He's never returning to the Lucario Clan, whether or not they're still around or not. He's unsure if he'll return to the Snowpoint Mountains, because Mt. Coronet is an area that offers far more than rock, snow, and dizzying heights. And whether or not that Absol survived and is living out his life properly or not is beyond his understanding.

Wanderer doesn't know that much about him anyway.

* * *

The day eventually came where Grovyle and Wanderer Lucario reached the base of Mt. Coronet. And as both Pokémon stared the mountain directly before them, they both knew that this was the day where their paths would split.

Naturally, they delayed the inevitable for just a bit longer.

"The brochures regarding Mt. Coronet make it look so small." Grovyle said, comparing the mountain before him with the mountain pictured in his tourist pamphlets. "And yet, I've never seen a mountain this enormous before."

" _Are there any like it in Hoenn?_ " Wanderer Lucario wondered.

"Only Mt. Chimney, but it's technically a volcano." Grovyle said before putting the foldable paper into his backpack. " _This_ mountain however…I can't see it end across the horizons, or even looking up at the sky."

Wanderer could, but only through the use of what his species commonly label as "Aura Vision", which is basically a glorified version of FORESIGHT that the Riolu and Lucario race have learned to make their own and implement it with remarkable skill.

"The clouds block off most of the apex, and other mountains neighboring Mt. Coronet make it appear as though its stretching right across Sinnoh." Grovyle continued explaining what is clearly mesmerizing him. "Of course, those other mountains actually are stretching across Sinnoh. This is the Mt. Coronet Mountain Range after all."

" _There are rumors that the apex of Mt. Coronet houses an area that is the direct link to the Legendary Deities of Sinnoh._ " Wanderer Lucario began to explain. " _Dialga, Giratina, Palkia…and the Pokémon that created them alongside Sinnoh and the rest of the Pokémon world._ "

"One Pokémon did all of that?" Grovyle inquired in astonishment. "Back in Hoenn, legends state that Groudon and Kyogre formed the land and the seas, and Rayquaza quelled them both when they caught each other to no end."

" _Perhaps they worked alongside each other, or perhaps they didn't._ " Wanderer theorized. " _I wouldn't know. The machinations of the Legendary Pokémon are an enigma._ "

"Kind of makes you wonder how humans came to rule this world." Grovyle wondered, knowing the power they have over Pokémon.

"…' _Rule'?_ " Wanderer said with uncertainty.

"Well, maybe 'rule' is too strong a word." Grovyle dialed himself down. "More like 'harmonized' and 'innovated' and 'befriended'. After all, the Pokémon that I've seen alongside human Pokémon Trainers appear quite happy with them. So clearly they're being well cared for."

" _And that lifestyle doesn't suit you?_ " Wanderer wondered.

"Nah. Not really." Grovyle responded nonchalantly. "I just prefer to travel around the world under my power rather than those of others."

" _A stalwart sense of independence._ " Wanderer labeled.

"Exactly." Grovyle confirmed with a smile. "Can't stand laziness, which is why I try not to be."

The small talk ended and the gravity of standing before Mt. Coronet hit both Pokémon simultaneously.

"So this is goodbye then. " Grovyle sobered. "I'd follow you further, but Grass-Type Pokémon don't do well in the cold."

" _Goodbye? Yes. Forever? No._ " Wanderer looked on the bright side. " _You know where I live. And even if we don't, I don't see myself leaving Sinnoh anytime soon._ "

"I don't see myself leaving here anytime soon either." Grovyle believed. "It's only a matter of time until we run into each other again, even if it isn't where we think."

" _Until then, goodbye for now._ "

Both Pokémon, having gotten to know each other well over the last few days, approached each other and gave one quick farewell hug (with Grovyle avoiding his chest spike) before splitting off in two different directions. Grovyle trekked north and Wanderer Lucario hiked up.

* * *

The Pokémon of Mt. Coronet were far more reclusive than Wanderer Lucario had hoped. None of them really cared much for him and his presence here, as long as he wasn't a threat to them…or a source of nourishment. They just saw him as they do any other Pokémon, seldom and a survivalist in a harsh environment.

Still, the Pokémon were colder than Mt. Coronet, and both were warmer than the Snowpoint Mountains. Overall, Wanderer Lucario didn't make any new friends, but he also didn't make any new enemies. And the weather in Mt. Coronet was far more tranquil than it was in Snowpoint Mountains, where walking outside in a blizzard would practically flash freeze you if it didn't immediately discombobulate you. Here, it was simply if you escalated high enough. But even then, the thinned oxygen may prove a greater risk to him than the colder weather.

That didn't stop Wanderer Lucario from reaching the summit on countless occasions.

Up here, Wanderer Lucario could see the world of Sinnoh on a clear day. He could easily see the neighboring islands and all four corners of Sinnoh. He couldn't see the life inhabiting those particular areas, even if he magnified his Aura Vision, but he could at least see what that life was doing. For example, Sunnyshore City was quite bright at night, especially the lighthouse that lights the way for any incoming ships.

But when Wanderer Lucario closes his eyes at Mt. Coronet's summit, he looks within himself as he meditates. He reviews his past, how he was born alone in Lake Acuity and loosely taken into the Lucario Clan when he wandered further north and aimlessly. He reviews his present, how long he intends to be here and strengthen himself. And he reviews his future, wondering if he'll see Grovyle again in a later date, or if he'll eventually settle down with a wife and even a few kids.

For the most part, as he mediated, he did so to focus on his psychic powers. He always possessed them and has been able to use them since birth. But with no proper teacher or great enough need to use them, said powers have had little opportunity to grow and properly develop.

The aid he provided Grovyle with those popped Cornn Berries actually took a fair amount of mental concentration in his part. At his present maximum, the best he could do with his psychic powers was to deflect an incoming projectile attack, and only if it was light and energy-based. Actually lifting something heavy and substantial, like _himself_ for starters, would quickly give him a headache and a nosebleed.

So, during his time on Mt. Coronet, he focused almost exclusively on strengthening himself. He honed his abilities with his aura, his physical strength, his stamina, and his psychic power. He meditated constantly, lifted enormous rocks that were all about the mountain area with his bare hands, swam across the frozen water to borderline hypothermia, and attempted to life objects with his mind in incremental levels of difficulty.

At first, his psychic powers would allow him to easily lift up simple stones, or make a snow Pokémon by strategically causing a few balls of snow to roll down a slope. But as the months went by, so did his psychic power. He could grasp water and cause it to move about himself like an amorphous being. He could lift rocks as large as himself and send them flying off the mountain. He could hover around the area for short distances and therefore prolong his hang time, but he couldn't yet make himself outright fly. That still required more dedication and experience.

But the more Wanderer Lucario meditated, the more he began to realize his limits. Or at least the limits he managed to reach all on his own. When that happened a few years into his time in Mt. Coronet, he simply looked at other areas that he could strengthen himself, such as his body and aura.

In doing so however, he came across a startling revelation. A secret that was housed within Mt. Coronet.

One day, as he was using FORCE PALM on the walls and testing how powerful he's gotten by detecting how far his strength resonates across the mountain, the walls gave in. But before he contemplated running, his curiosity took over when he noticed that not only was there a passageway that the wall blocked off, but that he wasn't able to sense it earlier.

"(What is this place?)" He contemplated to himself. "(And what is…aura…that masks with my senses?)"

After getting past the rubble he made, Wanderer took slow and cautious steps through this area. Not because it was different and potentially dangerous, but because it conflicted with what he thought he already knew about Mt. Coronet.

"(This place is near the summit,)" Wanderer continued thinking. "(And yet, despite meditating up there for all of this time, I never detected the presence of this place.)"

The area that Wanderer Lucario found himself proceeding and exploring through is Spear Pillar, based on the ancient pillars that possessed a language he had no knowledge of.

"(Has it been here all of this time and has only made itself apparent to me?)" Wanderer hypothesized. "(Or did it materialize into existence and I just found myself at the right place at the right time?)"

Each and every pillar he noticed possessed letters in an arcane language that confused Wanderer Lucario. But the more he noticed these inscriptions on the pillars that were intact, as well as the equal amount of those that were destroyed over time or by any potential tomb raiders of the past, the more curious he became to these letters.

"(What do these letters represent?)" Wanderer squatted down before a pillar that was on its side, broken down the middle. He put his right paw on one of these letters and traced over it with a single digit, attempting to understand how this character should be written. "(What are they trying to tell me?)"

Within his mind, he was already pondering the newfound possibility of learning something entirely new outside of what he has been spending years within Mt. Coronet doing what other Pokémon have already done. To Wanderer's knowledge, next to no Pokémon–or _people_ for that matter–understand this language. And those that do have likely committed to memory this language's secrets.

"(I don't care if it takes me even longer to learn this language than it does my training here.)" Wanderer Lucario thought with steadfast determination. "(I must understand its secrets, for all that they're worth.)"

* * *

The first step in understanding this language, in Wanderer's mind, was to keep track of every single character and write them down for quick reference. For this, Wanderer found a smooth slab of stone that can be carved and/or written on with the spike on the back of his wrist. And after finding his personal Rosetta Stone, he located each of these distinct characters, one by one, and scratched them down onto his stone slab.

In total, he found 28 distinct characters in this ancient language. But sadly for him, that was the easy part. Because, to make greater sense of this language, he had to make greater sense of the one he already knew.

For that, he made one of the seldom trip off of Mt. Coronet altogether, and trekked towards Canalave City's Library in the dead of night. He spent a few weeks there in absolute solitude, only entering the library in the dead of night, and sleeping in Iron Island during the day, thanks in part to a ferry that didn't really seem to mind transporting wild Pokémon from captured ones as long as they were well behaved.

Through these books, Wanderer Lucario learned quickly the basics of what it was that Grovyle learned when he took the cruise ship from Hoenn to Sinnoh. He learned the basics of English, learned how to read and write it at an accelerated rate, and spent a particular amount of time understanding each and every single character in the Roman alphabet, mostly because he already began to draw some similarities to it.

In fact, through these books, he wrote down the English equivalent of this language and compared it to this language that he had already jotted down on his stone. But just because he could now translate an ancient language into a modern one, that didn't mean he knew what the language was.

Another pair of days in Canalave City's library answered this question for him.

The language that is in Spear Pillar is known as the Language of the Unown. And the Unown _themselves_ are a race of ancient Pokémon that many human historians believe to have existed as far back as the creation of the Pokémon world. The language they make with their bodies is the language that humans have adopted and made their own, through relics and hieroglyphics that the bodies of the Unown make when they cement themselves onto the walls, such as in Sinnoh's Solaceon Ruins or in Johto's Ruins of Alph. And although humans adopted this language and its letters from the Unown, backtracking seems to have escaped almost all of humanity's minds.

With this knowledge, Wanderer returned to Mt. Coronet and to Spear Pillar and slowly began to decipher each individual pillar.

Wanderer deciphered each of the intact pillars and spent a considerable amount of time repairing the broken pillars through his psychic powers before translating the Language of the Unown into English from within the confines of his own mind. In doing so, he learned a lot about when the universe was new, and about the septet of Pokémon responsible for its creation, formation, and maintenance. They still exist to this day, obviously. But like the gods that they are, they have withdrawn themselves to mythology and are hardly ever seen by anyone, especially those that wish to seek or draw them out.

So, after a few months of rigorous study in regards to the Language of the Unown, Wanderer Lucario has learned about the history of the Pokémon Universe, back in its inception. From an egg in the middle of nothingness and chaos, Arceus was born. From It, so were the Legendary Deities and the Lake Guardians, responsible for all that is perceived as reality.

But that was information that was readily available from the majority of pillars that were either intact or fixable. There were a few that were broken and apparently beyond repair, based on how small their pieces were scattered about Spear Pillar to the point of resembling pebbles and rubble. Those, Wanderer suspected, hosed the biggest secrets and lore, and he was absolutely determined in understanding them after piecing together these earthbound puzzles.

This was by no means an easy task, as Wanderer Lucario learned the hard way that there were thousands of pieces for each destroyed pillar, and that they didn't exactly belong just to one pillar. Months more were spent, just to guarantee that the broken pieces of a pillar belonged to one pillar instead of another. But because Wanderer Lucario dedicated almost every single waking moment into this laborious task, and used his psychic powers to do so, he succeeded in collecting each and every piece and separating them into each respective pillar.

Now the real challenge began, in regards to piecing them all together, one by one.

Wanderer Lucario prioritized the one pillar that appeared the most damaged beyond repair, because a small portion of its intact base spoke of a prophecy involving a Pokémon that, as _Farfetch'd_ as it sounded, would defy natural Pokémon laws. He made decent progress in piecing it together, but progress was slow and taxing on his patience.

And before he was even a quarter of the way complete, he came to learn something interesting from the neighboring Pokémon of Mt. Coronet.

They spoke of a fight that two Pokémon were preparing themselves for in the near future. The two Pokémon in question were an Absol and a Lucario. The fight would take place in a forest above Kanto's Celadon City. And both Pokémon appeared to possess powers not native to their respective species.

Automatically, this raises more than one red flag for Wanderer.

First, the fact that this fight was taking place between an Absol and a Lucario made him think of the Absol and Lucario clans of Snowpoint Mountains.

"(Had they survived and seek revenge on one another?)" Wanderer thought.

Second, the fact that both of these Pokémon appeared to defy their natural limits and boundaries.

"(Is it possible that either of them are the Pokémon prophesized?)"

And third, the Absol in question.

"(Could it be…the same Absol that I encountered back in Snowpoint Mountains?)"

After weighing his options, Wanderer immediately abandoned his project here on Spear Pillar, blocked off the entrance to it to the point where he first found it by chance, and trekked to Sunnyshore City to board a ferry to Kanto. And in order to avoid attention to himself, he hypnotized a Pokémon Trainer into believing that he was under their possession, until Wanderer reached his destination anyway.

And from this day onward, Wanderer Lucario would serve a purpose that he never expected he would, with friends that he never thought he'd see again.

* * *

"There are no secrets to people with the right friends." —Orson Scott Card (212) (" _Shadow of the Hegemon_ ")

* * *

Well, now that I've uploaded all that I've written of this story, I'm going to start writing more chapters for this story.

And I'll also start writing the Origin story for the Legendary Weather Trio of Kanto.


End file.
